The Trick to the Bike
by LonelyIntrovert
Summary: They say the hardest, yet most rewarding job is parenting. As Patsy and Delia soon find out, there is a trick to it. Modern AU as requested by habitsandbicycles on Tumblr
1. To Start a Family

Patsy scrubbed, almost for the thousandth time, the countertop, which had already sparkling clean. She was up to her elbows in soup buds and her hands were dry and cracked from the repeated exposure from bleach, but she really couldn't help herself. Glancing at the clock, her stomach did a few flips as the hour hand inched towards two o'clock. Delia was due home any minute and then…

And then…

Well, to be quite frank, that horrid woman from the adoption agency was going to 'drop by'.

Okay, maybe she wasn't a horrid woman. Maybe she was actually a very kind person, someone who you might call over for a few drinks or for a cocktail party. But she also was most certainly not 'dropping by'. 'Dropping by' was something a close friend did when they turned up at one's house unannounced. 'Dropping by' was a pleasant surprise. Trixie 'dropped by', as did Phyllis and Barbara. However, it was absolutely ludicrous that this woman, this "Heather Randle", (whoever the hell that is), was going to 'drop by'. She wasn't dropping by, she was there to judge, scare, and make them paranoid beyond belief. This Ms. Randle was going to be the final deciding factor in allowing her and Delia to adopt a child.

Patsy rinsed her hands off with cool water as her heart began to beat faster. She and Delia had wanted to adopt for quite a while now, ever since they discussed it two years ago in great detail. And Delia was ever so great with kids! What if they weren't approved? It would break her heart, yes, but it would absolutely crush Delia! Patsy nervously dried the countertop and began to search the house for something else to clean, but that was close to impossible.

Patsy had scoured the hardwood floors with a toothbrush, shampooed the carpets, vacuumed the drapes, washed every single article of clothing they owned, and even dusted every book on their bookshelf individually (who does that?!). She went to the living room, but all of their rated R movies had already been shamefully moved to their room in a drawer ("Not 'Carol' too, Pats!"), and the dry bar had been under lockdown for the past month. They had given away most of their hard liquor and some of the wine, and the rest was hidden from view, either in a wine cooler or in a cabinet.

Making her rounds, Patsy drifted into the expected child's room, biting her lip anxiously. The room was spotless, with pure white carpet and pale green walls. The crib sat on the opposite wall and a rocking chair was in the other corner. Patsy floated in a gently sat in the rocking chair, looking around as she tried to calm her nerves.

There was no reason to think they wouldn't get this child, as she began to rationalize it.

They had never been arrested, both have good, well-paying jobs, (they were nurses for Christ's sake!), and they were close with the nuns down the road…which was odd, but still. Delia had her talents, cooking and gardening, and Patsy, well, cleaned. Neither were addicted to drugs or anything and Patsy knew Delia would just be the best mother!

Having calmed herself considerably, Patsy went back into the kitchen and went through the mail. Nothing of interest came, (well, unless you consider Delia's cursed mother sending a clipped letter about coming and visiting, but Patsy could have really cared less), so Patsy slipped out on to the patio to check on the flowers.

Sadly, "checking" on the flowers was all she was allowed to do. Delia had forbade her to do anything to the potted plants on their deck, claiming that the taller woman would kill the damn things if she even touched them…which was more than true. In fact, the only form of vegetation Patsy was allowed near was a six-inch strip of bamboo that Delia bought just for her to experiment with. Patsy was very excited until she realized that the strange thing grew extremely slowly and didn't even bloom! Poking one of its delicate green leaves gingerly, Patsy was pleased that she somehow managed to keep it alive for three months now.

Patsy was wandering back into the kitchen when she heard the door open and close.

"Pats?"

Patsy trotted into the corridor to capture Delia into her arms. The shorter woman hugged back without hesitation, snuggling closer while also trying to wriggle out of her over coat.

"Here, darling," Patsy whispered in a hoarse voice, pulling back to help Delia out of her coat. Before Patsy could place it on a hook, however, Delia captured her hands and brought them into her direct line of sight. Patsy inwardly cringed.

"Oh, Pats!" Delia murmured before placing kisses along her chapped knuckles.

"I'm so nervous, Deels," Patsy whispered, stroking the other's face with trembling hands.

"I am too," Delia said back, wrapping her arms around Patsy's waist and drawing her closer. Patsy sighed as the brunette laid her head on her chest, fitting perfectly underneath Patsy's chin. They stood holding each other and slightly swaying for quite some time.

And then the doorbell rang.

The door shut and then there was silence as Patsy stared blankly after the woman, Delia standing a few feet behind her in a similar fashion. Slowly, as if waking from some spell, Patsy turned to face Delia, a wide smile crossing her face.

"We did it!" Patsy shouted, rushing at Delia just as the other let out a triumphant shout. Patsy picked up the Welshwoman and spun her around as the other giggled gleefully.

"You were so magnificent, darling," Patsy said before showering her with kisses.

"Pats, you are so wonderful," Delia whispered, "You are going to be such a great mother."

"So are you," the ginger said hoarsely, fighting back the tears of joy that were threatening to overcome her.

The two shared a passionate kiss before Delia gasped, "We are going to be parents!"

"We are going to be a family," Patsy murmured, pulling Delia closer to capture her lips with hers.

And so they were.

A week later they got a call about a seven year old child that had just left the foster system for the adoption center. While child was considerably older than what they were expecting, the adoption agent reassured them that the child needed special attention because she was in an abusive relationship beforehand and no one else in the area was qualified to adopt her ("It's a girl, Pats!"). Her name was Elizabeth, Ellie for short, and she was absolutely remarkable.


	2. The Thunderstorm

"Darling, you can turn the light off," Patsy said with a frown, turning over to gaze questionably at her wife. Delia sat with arms crossed as she stared pointedly at the door in front of their bed. Around them, the rumblings of thunder echoed across London.

"No, I'm waiting," the brunette said softly, glancing at the ceiling.

"Waiting for wha-"

Patsy was interrupted by a bright, blinding flash of lightning that was soon followed by an earsplitting " _crash"_. The two women then heard the patter of bare feet, getting louder and louder as it neared their room. Within seconds their door was flung open and in a blur of blonde hair, Ellie launched herself on to their bed.

"Oof," Patsy said as the young girl landed squarely on her torso.

"Mum, Mam, its storming," Ellie complained, burying her head in Patsy's shoulder and clinging to her for dear life. Patsy wrapped her long arms around their daughter and drew her close, hiding a wry smile.

"I know sweetie, it's very scary," Patsy soothed, rubbing her back.

"You're going to be alright," Delia added in sympathetically, "The storm can't get you in here." Thunder clapped again and Ellie clutched at Patsy even harder.

"Do you want to sleep with us?" Delia asked, brushing some hair out of the child's face. Ellie's face jerked up and down as she nodded her ascent.

Ellie settled in between her mothers and soon Patsy and Delia had wrapped their arms around Ellie, protecting her from the ongoing storm pounding on to their house.

But they all slept soundly that night.


	3. The Incident

Patsy was humming to herself as she tossed the keys onto the countertop and reached for a glass from the cabinet. Her day was going great, only one patient cursed at her and she was meeting with Delia for lunch. Filling the glass with water from the tap, she downed half on it before pulling out her phone and scrolling through Facebook. With a sigh, she liked some posts from her mother-in-law, who was touring Ireland with her father-in-law. The cursed woman was going to be back tomorrow, and she was intent on visiting to show everyone what a "great time" she had. Patsy snorted. Mrs. Busby was more than likely going to complain about how different Ireland was from Pembroke, along with how Irish tea was disgusting, or something like that.

If anything, Patsy was just thankful that Delia's parents were so quick to claim Ellie as their own. In fact, they were actually quite fond of each other. Ellie would often ask to talk to "Grandma Busby" whenever Delia happened to be talking to her mother on the phone. It was very cute, though Patsy would never admit it to Mrs. Busby's face.

Patsy was in the process of placing her empty glass in the sink when door banged open.

Mildly surprised, Patsy turned the corner to see the last thing she had expected to find.

Delia was leaning on the wall, bent half-way over as tears were streaming out of her eyes.

"Deels?!" Patsy shouted, grasping her wife's arms and pulling her into a hug.

"My darling, my love, what is wrong?" Patsy whispered hoarsely as Delia began crying in earnest, burying her face under Patsy's chin. Soon the ginger's shirt was soaked with hot tears and Delia was gasping for breath as she tried to describe what had caused her to begin crying.

"I…Pats…Ellie…" She managed, shaking violently in Patsy's arms.

"What?! What happened to Ellie, Deels, what happened to our daughter?" Patsy demanded, thoroughly alarmed now that their daughter was a part of this fiasco.

"I got…a call…from the school," Delia gasped, "She's…been in a fight…bullied…"

Patsy's blood ran cold.

"What do you mean, Delia?" Patsy asked gently, pulling back so as to see her lover's face fully.

"She was 'in a confrontation' during recess," Delia said, taking some calming breaths, "I don't know who with, but the other kid shoved her and she punched him back."

"That's my girl," Patsy said automatically, pride in her voice. Delia spared her a mockingly outraged look as she attempted to dry some tears.

"But Pats," Delia murmured, sadness enveloping her features, "She was bullied…because of us."

Patsy sighed dejectedly as she exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke out of her open car window. She sat in the school parking lot, trying to gather her thoughts before she went rampaging in there.

No one made her Delia cry.

And no one; absolutely fucking no one touched their daughter.

No one.

The saddest thing about the whole situation was that Patsy was sort of waiting for this to happen. It was only a matter of time before Ellie's classmates found out about her adopted lesbian parents…and that was bound to rub someone the wrong way.

Patsy tossed the spent cigarette out of the window, onto the asphalt and tapped the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. She had every right to be mad; someone was bullying her daughter. But her anger would only cause more hurt feelings. It was in situations like these where Patsy would ask herself, "what would Delia do?". But for the first time, she was at a loss for what her wife would do. Before she left to go pick up Ellie, Patsy had sent Delia to bed with two aspirins because she knew Delia needed to think this over. Unlike Patsy, the brunette did not require comfort during emotional distress; instead, she preferred to come to terms with herself and figure it out that way. This was something Patsy respected, just like how Delia knew when to give her alone time. Besides, they were going to more than likely discuss it that night anyway.

As Patsy was mulling over how her wife pretty much had a heart of gold, an idea came to her. And the more and more she thought about it, a contented smile began to creep across her face. Yes, that would work; almost perfectly.

Patsy placed her sunglasses back on her face and took one last look at herself in the rear-view mirror.

Rampage on.

Patsy pressed the office door open without an ounce of hesitation. She was there to rampage. She hardly took one step, however, before she heard a gasp from the row of seats on the side of the office.

"Mum?" Ellie asked, sitting in a chair that was far too big for her.

"Ellie!" Patsy exclaimed, surprised at how relieved she sounded. Patsy glanced at the secretary, who seemed to not notice Patsy's presence in the room. Patsy went over to her daughter and knelt down in front of her.

"Darling, are you okay?" Patsy questioned, casting a trained eye over her.

"I'm fine mum! I just scraped my hands!" Ellie said, sounding very pleased with herself. As she said this, she exposed the palms of her hands, which were indeed very scraped up with grit still embedded in them. Patsy's stomach twisted into an unpleasant knot as a strange sense of déjà vu swept over her.

"Has someone looked at this, sweetie?" Patsy breathed softly, taking her daughter's small hands into her own. The little girl shook her head vigorously.

"No. They are still icing Chad Harvey's eye," Ellie chirped.

"Is that the kid you punched?"

Ellie nodded.

"You have very good aim," Patsy whispered, smiling cheekily at her daughter. Ellie giggled.

"Mum, my hands still kind of hurt," Ellie murmured, her face contorting into discomfort.

"Of course they do," Patsy said back sympathetically, "I'll wash them up when we get home…but this will make them feel better." Very softly, Patsy gingerly brushed her lips over Ellie's grazed palms. The little girl giggled.

"Is that better?" Ellie nodded.

"I have to go talk to the principal, stay here until I get back."

Patsy rose and approached the secretary's desk. The woman in question was in her late forties, with graying hair and glasses.

She didn't even look up when Patsy asked, "Can I speak with the principal?"

"Do you have an appointment?" the secretary queried, without looking up from her computer screen.

For a second, Patsy glanced to her daughter, (swinging her legs underneath her chair and gazing amiably around the room), back to the secretary, bewildered.

"I…uh…my daughter is the one who got in a fight," Patsy stammered. The secretary jolted as if electrically shocked, and turned to face Patsy.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Mount…erm… He should be in his office."

Patsy bit her tongue. 'Not now,' she thought to herself, 'Not now, you will have another chance…' The secretary pointed at a door to the side, and Patsy drew herself upright before marching over and rapping aggressively on the door.

"Come in!" a male voice called.

Taking a deep breath, Patsy put her bitch face on and plowed onward.

Dr. Winslow shot up as soon as Patsy entered the door, having obviously been tipped off by the secretary.

"Miss Mount, it's a plea-"

"That is Mrs. Busby-Mount, if you will," Patsy interrupted sharply, anger coloring her voice.

"I…of course, of course, I am sorry, please have a seat," the principal stammered. Patsy seated herself in a chair and crossed her arms, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm afraid I've only ever met with your…um…"

"My wife," Patsy said irritably. Wow, he just kept on putting his foot in it, didn't he?

"Ah, yes, such a…uh, pleasant woman." He said this almost wishfully. Patsy decided to let it slide.

"So, what happened today?" Patsy asked idly.

Clearing his throat, Dr. Winslow said, "There was a confrontation on the playground during recess…from what both children say, it was about the nature of your…marriage… and the argument escalated until Chad shoved Ellie down, and then Ellie punched him in the eye."

There was a moment of silence, in which Dr. Winslow sat there sweating and Patsy mulled this over.

"What will happen now?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, normally the children involved would be suspended for three days so they could – ah – cool off, if you will."

"I see," Patsy said in a clipped tone, "but that's it?"

"I…what do you mean?" the principal asked warily.

"What I said. The kids cool off, but they never make amends, never actually get to discuss how they feel. It is a critical lesson they must learn, don't you agree, Dr. Winslow?"

"I…well yes, but I don't understand…" Dr. Winslow stammered.

"What I am trying to say, Doctor, is I want Ellie and this Chad to talk things out," Patsy said in a suddenly calm voice, "I think it would be best if Chad were to come over on a 'play date' if you will, so that he can see, and understand, what is truly different and same between his home life and Ellie's."

"…that is a very interesting idea, Mrs. Busby-Mount," Dr. Winslow said slowly, cautiously, "but this would need to be approved by Chad's parents…"

"Of course."

Dr. Winslow leaned back in his chair and cast a thoughtful glance over Patsy.

"Would your wife be agreeable to this?" he finally asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

"You have given me a lot to think about, Mrs. Busby-Mount," the principal announced, clearly as a dismissal, "Allow me to get back with you tomorrow and I will share with you what I think."

"Sweetie, what happened today?" Patsy finally managed to ask her daughter as they sat down to eat their milkshakes. The ginger had patched up her daughter's hands in the car from a first aid kit and the pair had stopped at an ice-cream parlor to relax after such an eventful day.

Ellie looked determinedly at her milkshake, appearing to feel guilty for the first time.

"Mum, am I in trouble?"

Patsy chuckled, mildly humored at how her daughter's mind worked.

"Do you think you would be getting a milkshake if you were in trouble?" Patsy asked.

"…no," Ellie said slowly.

"Then 'no', you are not in trouble. What happened at the playground?"

Ellie shrunk down into the booth as she began to mumble her story:

"Well, we were all playing tag when Chad started talking about his dad and how his dad ran track in college and I said I didn't have a dad." Patsy bit her lip. Technically, Ellie did have a dad, but Patsy wasn't about ready to correct her because he was currently serving twenty to life in prison for child molestation, so it was on a strictly need-to-know basis.

So, instead, Patsy prompted her to go on.

"…and?"

"…and he said everyone has dads, but I said I didn't, I actually have two mums and he asked what that meant, and I said that my mums were married and they adopted me, and he said that was disgusting and wrong and I told him to shut it but he wouldn't and then… and then…"

A few tears escaped from Ellie's eyes and Patsy was quick to reach across the table to brush them away.

"It's okay, sweetie," Patsy soothed, not exactly knowing what else to say.

"…and then I said I didn't care if he thought it wasn't right, and that's when he shoved me, and called me disgusting, but I got up and punched him because I didn't want to hear him anymore, and he was hurting me."

"You did the right thing," Patsy said supportively, "Don't let anyone shove you around, darling."

For several minutes, the only sound was Ellie's sniffles and them slurping the rest of their milkshakes.

The next time Ellie spoke, it was when they were in the car, on the way home.

"Mum," she asked quietly, "why did Chad say it was wrong?" Patsy looked away, biting her lip nervously.

"Because…because some people believe it is not right that people like me and your mam should be married."

"Why is it wrong?"

Patsy swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She knew this conversation was going to happen at some time, she just thought she would have Delia to back her up.

"It is for you to decide if it is wrong or not," Patsy finally answered quietly. Her whole body went numb, her mind screaming at her to retract the statement; to tell Ellie that no, it wasn't wrong, that in fact all those who believed it was were a bunch of assholes. But no. She did not want to lord her own beliefs over her child, like her own father did. It wouldn't be right; Ellie was her own self.

They rode the rest of the way home in silence.

When they did get home, Delia wrapped her arms around Ellie, and Patsy smiled sadly as her wife held their daughter tightly as soft tears seeped out of her eyes.

"It's okay mam," Ellie said, trying to console the shorter of her mothers, "I'm not hurt, mum bandaged my hands!"

"Of course she did, darling," Delia said, wiping away some stray tears.

That night, after Ellie had been bathed and put to bed, Patsy and Delia clung to each other in their bed. In the dimness of the light, they softly discussed the events of the day, gently consoling each other between gentle and passionate kisses.


	4. Holding the Fort

"Deels, there is no way you are going to work today," Patsy said with finality, glancing at the digital thermometer, "You have a one hundred and one fever (Fahrenheit)!"

Delia gazed sheepishly at her wife, her eyes slightly glazed over with sickness.

"I feel fine," she said in mutiny, though her scratchy voice and following wince gave her away.

"Mm-hmm," Patsy said, arching an eyebrow, "I'm going to check on Ellie, she doesn't look too good either."

Patsy marched into her daughter's room, wielding the thermometer with an air of no-nonsense authority. Ellie lay sprawled on her bed, her face buried under her pillow. Patsy nudged her enough to where she could sit on the bed.

"Huh?" Ellie mumbled, shifting slightly without opening her eyes.

"Do you feel okay?" Patsy asked, almost needlessly, because the answer was fairly obvious. Her daughter shook her head and slunk further into her bedsheets.

Without asking permission, Patsy inserted the thermometer in Ellie's right ear. When it beeped, Patsy inwardly cringed. One hundred (again, Fahrenheit).

"Okay, Ellie, sit up," Patsy commanded. Her daughter sluggishly rolled up into sitting position, where Patsy gently picked her up. The young girl instinctively wrapped her arms around Patsy's neck and the ginger carried Ellie back into the master bedroom, where Delia was sitting up, drinking some orange juice.

"You have a roommate," Patsy announced.

"Oh dear," Delia said forlornly as Patsy deposited their daughter on the bed, "Not you too."

Ellie didn't answer, but rather rolled over and buried herself under the blankets against Delia.

Delia rubbed her back and asked, "What was her temp?"

"One hundred," Patsy said softly, stroking some of Ellie's locks away from her face. The two mothers collectively sighed for a moment.

"Well, when she feels up to it, two aspirin every four hours, maybe a warm bath, plenty of rest…" Patsy said before trailing off, realizing she was talking to a fellow nurse.

"Of course Nurse Busby-Mount," Delia said sardonically before flashing a grin.

"…are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Patsy fretted softly, "I don't want you worrying about her when you are also sick."

"I can hold the fort while you're away," Delia mused.

Patsy's eyes softened as she slowly leaned in and pressed her lips on Delia's, the heat of her fever radiating off of her skin.

"In sickness and in health," Patsy murmured against her lips.

"For better and for worse," Delia whispered back, smiling gently.

Beside them, Ellie shifted and mumbled, "Ew."

Patsy and Delia chuckled before Patsy spared Delia one last kiss, ruffled Ellie's hair, and then left for work.

Patsy had a terrible day. Several patients were cruel to her, it started pouring rain around three o'clock, and on top of that, all she thought about were her sick daughter and wife at home. When she walked into the house, soaked to the skin, she was so tired she didn't even bother to dry herself off in the corridor.

She entered into the dim kitchen and went to the sink for a glass of water. She saw the remnants of tomato soup soaking in hot, soapy water, and the scent of grilled cheese lingered in the air. Chugging down her water, Patsy trailed through the living room, silently observing the small pile of used tissues on the coffee table and the open bottle of aspirin. Patsy then floated into her room, her gaze cast down as she began to shed her soaked clothing. Dropping her overcoat on the floor, she kicked off her shoes at the door before coming across the most adorable scene.

Delia lay on the bed, her hair astray, cradling Ellie to her chest. The TV was on mute, and Patsy chuckled at the sight of Spongebob Squarepants dancing on the screen. Both her wife and her daughter were asleep, their chests rising and falling in peaceful synchronization. Switching the TV off, Patsy crawled into bed beside the others before wrapping her arms around them. Brushing some of Delia's hair away from her face, Patsy brushed her lips on her cheek before laying her head on her shoulder. Delia shifted.

"Got her temp down," Delia muttered without cracking an eyelid.

"Mmm," Patsy responded, trailing her fingers over Delia's arm.

"How was your day?" Delia murmured, leaning her head on Patsy's.

"Let's not talk about it," Patsy whispered back, crawling closer until her body was flush against the others. Their fevered bodies quickly began to warm Patsy, making her drowsy.

Silence fell between the two of them, and soon the whole family descended into a peaceful slumber.


	5. A Night Out

"…okay," Patsy said slowly into her phone, "I…yeah…I understand…no, you're fine… sure. Yeah, talk to you later… Bye-Bye."

Patsy hung up and groaned as she fell back onto their bed.

Delia paused in applying her makeup.

"Was that Barbara cancelling last minute?" the brunette queried idly.

"Yes, how did you know?" Patsy sighed bitterly, rolling back up to cradle her head in her hands.

"Sixth sense…or her tendency to be dissuaded by her husband to even talk to us," Delia muttered, partially to herself. She angrily stabbed the mascara wand back into the container to replenish the amount on the wand.

"Do you even still want to go at this point?" Patsy asked cautiously, "It might be hard getting a sitter at such short notice."

Delia paused to give Patsy an exasperated look.

"Patience Busby-Mount, it is our fifth wedding anniversary! I am not going to miss this, we have been saving to go clubbing for such a long while and I haven't been good and sloshed in six months!"

Patsy stood and wrapped her arms around Delia, holding her tightly.

"Has it really been that long? What was the occasion?" Patsy asked in disbelief.

"Phyllis's birthday party," Delia said thoughtfully.

"Mm. I don't remember that very well," Patsy intoned gently, swaying from side to side.

"I don't either…I only remember what we did afterwards," the brunette said cheekily.

The pair shared a throaty chuckle before Patsy exclaimed, "Oh, I can try Phyllis!"

Delia frowned.

"Pats, why don't you just try my-"

" . . Your. Mother," Patsy growled, "We won't get home until late and we will be completely smashed."

Delia rolled her eyes before returning to applying her make-up. Patsy searched through her contacts before finding the older woman's number and dialing it.

Phyllis Crane had grown to become something like a mother to Patsy. She was there to support her, and always had good advice at the ready. Patsy talked to the older woman at least three times a week and they often would have her come over for local gossip.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

"Hello?" came Phyllis's voice.

"Hi, Phyllis, its Patsy!"

"Oh, hello Patsy! How are things?"

"Just fine," Patsy said, glancing at Delia, "We actually had a favor to ask you…I know its short notice, but can you come over and watch Ellie for us? Our other sitter quit on us and we have been planning this night for such a long time."

There was an odd silence on the phone.

"Oh…gosh, lass, I'm so sorry," Phyllis said softly, "You see, I would, but I kind of…have a date…tonight…"

"…oh."

"I'm so sorry kid."

"No, that's okay, we can get someone else…have fun!"

"Thank you, you too!"

Patsy hung up and met Delia's bewildered gaze.

"The woman has a date," Patsy surrendered angrily.

"…oh," Delia echoed.

Wordlessly, Patsy went through her contacts, asked God to give her strength, and dialed Mrs. Busby's cell.

"Ellie?" Patsy asked softly before entering her daughter's room. The nine year-old sat on her floor, doodling in a notebook.

"Yes, Mum?"

"Aunt Barbara can't come babysit you today, sweetie."

"Mum, I don't need someone to watch me," Ellie complained, looking up from the TARDIS she was drawing.

"Of course you don't," Patsy said sardonically, sitting on Ellie's bed.

"…so I'm going to be home, by myself?"

"No…" Patsy said slowly, "your Grandma Busby is coming by to-"

"GRANDMA BUSBY!" Ellie squealed, jumping up and scattering her coloring supplies, "GRANDMA BUSBY IS COMING?!"

"Yes," Patsy said with a wince, "but you need to clean your room." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ellie was speeding around her room, throwing things in various drawers. Patsy left her room, feeling extremely confused. When she re-entered her room, she observed the dress Delia had changed into for a good long moment. Delia noticed her staring and raised her eyebrows.

"Something on your mind, Pats?" she asked a little too innocently.

"Yes, a considerable amount," Patsy sniffed indignantly, leaning against the doorway, "For example, I will never understand how our daughter and your mother became so close. Your mother is almost intolerable." Delia rolled her eyes.

"Give her some credit, I survived her," the brunette said, smoothing the wrinkles in her dress.

"…and besides, Pats, you have nothing to worry about. Our daughter gave a boy a black eye last year."

"I guess that's true," Patsy chortled.

"How do I look?" Delia asked, turning away from the mirror. Patsy allowed her eyes to ravage over her wife's visage, making Delia blush furiously.

"Absolutely perfect."

"…and bedtime is at eight," Delia said, slipping her overcoat on as Patsy stood by the door, looking out the window for the cab.

"But Mam," Ellie whined, "bedtime is at nine on weekends!"

"Don't argue with your mam," Delia said sharply.

Mrs. Busby stood next to Ellie, still wearing her coat and holding her purse. She gazed between Delia and Ellie, an amused expression on her face.

"Why don't you go pick a movie for us to pop in, cariad?" Mrs. Busby asked, patting her granddaughter on the shoulder. Ellie bounded away into the living room, leaving Mrs. Busby, Delia, and Patsy facing each other.

"I'm not kidding about the bedtime, mam," Delia said, eyeing her mother reproachfully.

"Of course, sweetie."

"And no snacks after seven, only water."

"Yes, cariad."

Ellie came running back, holding a movie triumphantly up in the air.

"Finding Nemo!" she announced excitedly.

"Deels, that's the cab," Patsy whispered quietly.

"Oh…uh…we should be home around…oh dear," Delia stammered, glancing at Patsy.

"Early morning," Patsy said softly, to no one in particular, "you'll be asleep."

"…thank you, mam, for coming on such short notice," Delia said quietly, holding her mother's gaze.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Busby," Patsy added in.

"It is no trouble," the older woman said indifferently.

"Bye-Bye Mum, Mam," Ellie said, hugging her parents.

"Good-bye, sweetie," Delia said, kissing Ellie's forehead.

"See you tomorrow," Patsy murmured, hugging the young girl tightly. Patsy then placed a hand on Delia's waist, preparing to leave.

"Bye Mam," Delia said.

"Have fun, cariad," Mrs. Busby said, with a hint of a smile.

"Good bye, Mrs. Busby," Patsy said.

"Take care of my daughter, cariad," Mrs. Busby said sternly.

"Yes ma'am."

Six Hours Later…

"Jesus, Pats," Delia panicked, "Where the hell are we?!"

"Deels, you're fine, you're doing great, we are in a cab going home."

The brunette fell silent for a second before stirring once more.

"Oh, God, is it okay for me to go in the house?! I don't think Ellie should see me like this!" Patsy rolled her eyes before pulling Delia close and holding her hands in her own. The short Welshwoman was trembling slightly as she leaned into the ginger.

"Pats, how am I going to walk?!" Delia fretted loudly. Patsy snorted.

"I'll help you walk, Deels, don't worry about a thing sweetheart. You just need to keep it down, alright?"

"Patsy, I don't like this," Delia whimpered in a suddenly small voice.

"That's because we are still moving, darling, wait until we get home…I'll put on some music, or maybe some Archer, and we can just lie on the bed and calm down, okay?"

"Okay," Delia said, almost as if she didn't believe the other. The cab pulled up to their house, and Patsy was sure to tell Delia to stay seated until she went over to her side of the vehicle.

"She aw'right, miss?" the cabbie asked dubiously as Patsy helped her wife out of the cab.

"Uh, yes, she's fine, just a bit sloshed," Patsy fibbed, gathering up their purses.

Tipping the driver, Patsy looped her arm in Delia's and coached her up the steps.

Unlocking the door, Patsy tried desperately to guide Delia through the house into their bedroom, as quietly as possible. The lights were off, so as they went, Patsy made sure to flick them on. Delia swayed to and fro, leaning heavily on Patsy.

"…here you go, Deels, you can lay down now." The brunette collapsed on the bed, looking around the room confusedly.

"Do you want anything, sweetie?" Patsy murmured, brushing some hair out of Delia's face. Delia shook her head slowly, appearing to not know how to respond.

"I need…my teeth," she managed, sitting back up. Sighing, Patsy let Delia up and watched as her wife hobbled into their bathroom and began poking around for the needed utensils.

"You need a toothbrush, honey," Patsy reminded quietly.

"I know…where the fuck… I…" Taking sympathy, Patsy picked up the toothbrush, (sitting right in front of Delia, where it had always been located), and pressed it into her hand.

"…oh"

Patsy observed Delia slowly add toothpaste before cleaning her mouth. After spitting, the brunette went back and began going through her clothes in her wardrobe.

"Delia, what are you doing?"

"I need to change clothes," Delia said, wrinkling her nose.

"Let me, sweetie, go lay down," Patsy gently intoned against Delia's ear. The shorter woman wordlessly obeyed, sprawling out on the marriage mattress and growing very still. Patsy plucked a fresh pair of shorts and a tank top from the cabinet and laid them on the bed. Wordlessly, Patsy began removing Delia's clothes and then redressed her, the whole while Delia gazed around the room with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

"Better?" Patsy murmured, laying down next to her and cradling her. Delia nodded, turning into the other.

"Patsy, why did I do this?" Delia questioned, sounding panicked.

"Because you wanted to try it, Deels," Patsy gently reminded her.

"Do I have to do it again?"

"Not if you don't want to," Patsy assured her.

Silence fell between them. And then:

"Pats, are you mad at me?" Delia asked in a small voice.

"No, Delia, I'm not mad at you," Patsy hummed, pulling her closer, "Just try and relax, sweetie. You're doing so well. I'm going to turn on the TV, okay?"

Delia didn't respond, but rather watched with glazed eyes as Patsy popped in Archer, a secret favorite of theirs. As the familiar tune of the opening credits came from the TV, Delia blinked rapidly and stared at the box in wonder. Assured that Delia had something positive to trip out to, Patsy gathered up her stinking laundry and went to wash it.

What she didn't foresee, however, was meeting her mother-in-law in the hallway.

The older woman appeared to be getting a glass of water, but when Patsy appeared, reeking of God-knows-what with guilt written all over her face, Mrs. Busby leaned back and crossed her arms.

"Mrs. Busby," Patsy stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"That's marijuana I smell, isn't it?" she asked quietly, cutting to the chase.

Patsy didn't respond, but rather looked at her pointedly. What was the woman going to do?

"Is she okay?" Mrs. Busby pressed. Patsy looked at her, bewildered. It was at times like these where she did not know if the other woman was actually angry.

"She's…she was just… she's never…done it…before," Patsy stammered, trying to make it look better.

"But is she okay, Patience?"

"…yes, I believe so." The older woman gazed at the other, her expression unreadable.

"Just…just take care of her, would you?" Mrs. Busby said finally.

"Of course, Mrs. Busby," Patsy stuttered. The older woman brushed past her, and disappeared into the guest room. Patsy glanced at the clock. It was two-thirty in the morning.

Patsy threw Delia's clothes in the washing machine before rummaging through the kitchen in search of snacks. When she reappeared in their bedroom, she was armed with bottled water, chips, doughnut holes, and the cool whip that came in a tub. It was last minute, yes, but it would have to do. Delia was in the same place Patsy left her, gaping at the television in both awe and confusion.

"Here, drink this," Patsy said, cracking a bottle open and handing it to her wife. With numb hands, Delia accepted it and began downing it, not exactly realizing how thirsty she was. She then moved on to the food, Patsy holding the container as she helped herself.

After a while, Delia looked away from the TV.

"How do you feel?" Patsy murmured.

"Warm. I can feel my arteries pumping throughout my body. I can't really focus on anything…and the TV is getting too bright." At this, Patsy flicked the TV off and they were plunged in darkness, save for a stray sensi in the corner of their room, acting as a nightlight. The only noise was from the stereo, where Florence and the Machine were singing "Dog Days are Over". Patsy brushed her fingers along Delia's waist idly, acting as her sentinel. Her vigil drew to an end when a slight snore came from Delia, a little past four in the morning. Smiling contentedly, Patsy placed the remaining food on the nightstand and curled up next to her wife, into her waking dreams.


	6. The Talk

An early May Saturday morning found the Busby-Mount house in a serene state. All the windows were open, letting in cool air and the scent of early-blooming lilacs. The only sounds were the wind rustling the freshly unfurled tree leaves, and the soft tone of Ray Charles echoing around the house.

Patsy dozed lightly in a reclining chair after getting home at four in the morning from a delivery. As she did this, she marveled at Delia's mood, which she managed to gauge by the music she was listening to. Delia was a music nut. She knew Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" like the back of her hand, as well as Led Zeppelin's fifth album, "Houses of the Holy". She would belt out Cage the Elephant before humming the tune to Tommy Dorsey's "Song of India".

All in all, she was a nerd.

But, she was Patsy's nerd.

And as Patsy slipped in and out of consciousness, she was lulled by the sound of Delia starting the washing machine as she softly sang along with Ray Charles, obviously in a cleaning mood. All was in its place, all was perfect, and all was at peace.

Well, until…

"ELIZABETH. MARIE. BUSBY. MOUNT."

Patsy jerked up with a jolt, disoriented and still half-asleep. Delia wasn't normally a shouter; she hardly ever raised her voice, even when mad. In fact, she was normally the calmer of the two. Normally.

Bewildered, Patsy sat up and tried to ponder what on earth could possibly be wrong before placing herself in the direct line of fire. She was about to draw a blank when a movement on the stairwell caught her attention.

Her thirteen year-old daughter, Ellie, gazed warily back at her as she sat perched on the top of the stairwell. Mother and daughter stared at each other in silence, both in extreme confusion and vague panic. It was at times like these that Patsy felt a strange sense of comradery with her daughter; because now they shared an equal amount of fright and confusion.

'What did you do?' Patsy silently mouthed to her daughter. The situation had a strange hilarity about it, but at the time, neither was aware of it.

'I don't know', Ellie responded, panic spreading across her face.

Patsy opened her mouth to say something else, but broke off when the dreaded sound of Delia marching towards the living room cut her off. With a scurry of movement, Ellie ascended back up the stairs, probably posting herself just beyond the line of sight. Delia entered the living room, looking like a storm of rage. She clutched a wad of bedsheets in her hands.

"Deels?" Patsy asked tentatively. Delia rounded on her wife.

"Patience," Delia thundered, whipping out her full name, "do you know what your daughter did?!"

Disgruntled, Patsy said, "I…uh…no, I do not."

Delia lowered her voice and whispered through clenched teeth, "There is blood on these sheets!"

It took a moment for Patsy to register what that meant.

"…oh…" Patsy said, eyes widening.

"Oh," Delia echoed, suddenly looking defeated, "…why didn't she tell us?"

Patsy stood, shaking the rest of her sleep away before calling softly, "Ellie, get down here."

There was a moment of silence before their daughter cautiously slunk down the stairs, looking both frightened and guilty.

"Why didn't you tell either of us that you started your period?" Patsy asked bluntly, crossing her arms. She was sleep-deprived and wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush.

Ellie looked down and kicked at the ground as she muttered, "I knew you would freak out."

Silence fell between the trio, Delia gaping at their daughter, looking as if she was going to cry, blow a gasket, or both. And then…

"Patsy, go get The Book," Delia said in a dark tone. It was Patsy's turn to gaze incredulously at her wife.

"Deels, she's only thirteen-" Patsy stammered, though she soon regretted muttering the statement. If looks could kill, Patsy would have been incinerated.

"…and I am getting the book," Patsy placated hurriedly, heading towards their bedroom.

The family of three sat out on the patio, giving Patsy a chance to smoke a rare cigarette to calm her nerves, albeit in vain. The Book in question lay open on the table, to a rather scandalous page depicting and comparing both the female and male reproductive anatomy. Patsy found it in her closet, on the top shelf, under a thick layer of dust. It was a college textbook, one she used while training for midwifery.

As soon as it was plopped in front of Ellie, the girl recoiled.

"No, no, no, we are NOT having this conversation," Ellie exclaimed mutinously, slinking down, almost under the table.

"Yes, we are," Delia responded sternly, turning to said page. Repulsed, Ellie forced her gaze away and crossed her arms.

"Ellie," Patsy intervened, drawing her attention in a soft voice, "We can either have this conversation now, get it over with, or you could be having this conversation a few years from now, with someone else." The cloaked threat took a moment to sink in.

And without further ado, Patsy and Delia began explaining the birds and the bees.

"Why do…I mean… why do I need to know that?" Ellie queried, a long hour later. They had discussed at length, menstruation, ovulation, sex, fertilization, and pregnancy. They had now moved on to contraception, and the topic was how to properly put on condoms.

Patsy let out a sigh, snubbing out her fifth cigarette as she gathered her thoughts. Delia sat across from her, pen and paper in hand, where she had roughly sketched the application process on a male appendage.

"To begin with, your school will not teach you this," Patsy said, letting irritation seep into her voice, "They will teach you abstinence, not actual contraception. We don't want you getting the wrong idea about sexual intercourse." Ellie's face contorted into confusion at this vague statement.

"What your mum is trying to say, Ellie," Delia intervened, "is that the school with try to give you the wrong idea, because they don't want you having sex in the first place. But in doing so, they fail to teach you the necessary means of contraception. By under-educating you, you might try having sex without fully understanding what you are doing, or what you can do to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. We are showing you how to put a condom on because your partner might not know how to properly put one on. We are trying to prepare you for decisions like these, because we know we will not be involved in these situations."

"…but what's the 'wrong idea' about sex?" Ellie asked, with a blush, having never undergone a school sex-education class.

Patsy and Delia shared a dark look. Patsy decided to take a stab at it.

"We are not saying we want you to have sex…well, at least, not now. Your body is physically not ready. Not only that, but you would be taking a lot of risks. However, your mam and I are not going to pretend that you won't want to try it when you get older. We want you to be able to be comfortable with whatever decision you make, and part of that is giving you the knowledge of what you are doing. Your school believes that it is best if you abstain completely from sex, so they don't teach you contraception, thinking that it will give you ideas. They won't acknowledge that sex is just as emotional as it is physical; they make it sound bad or dirty. They will tell you how groping or any other form of sex apart from vaginal is wrong. We don't want that for you. You have to know that we trust you to make the right choices, and that we will support you, whatever happens."

For a while the only sound was Patsy lighting another cigarette and birds chirping. Somewhere, someone was mowing their lawn. Ellie fidgeted in her chair, staring blankly at her hands as she absorbed Patsy's speech. Sensing the end of the conversation, Delia gathered up the book and closed it, hiding its shocking contents from view. Standing up, Delia addressed the two of them.

"Pats, why don't you take Ellie to the store and pick out some pads for her…I doubt we have much left and I don't think she should be experimenting with tampons right now." Patsy nodded, cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

"C'mom, let's go," Patsy said, standing.

Ellie went to follow her through the patio doors, before Delia called after her.

"Hey, Ellie."

Ellie turned around to face her Welsh mother.

The brunette winked and cracked a smile before saying, "Welcome to womanhood."

From inside the house, the two heard Patsy's snort of laughter.


	7. The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Patsy reached for a spoon as Delia seated herself at the table, tugging off her scrubs after a long shift on the trauma ward.

"…I mean, this person's jaw was completely unhinged from their head," Delia was saying, describing a violent car accident, "we had to screw it back together, it took two hours. They aren't going to be able to eat for three months."

Patsy sympathetically clucked her tongue, hardly even listening to her story as she dug out the whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet. She shook it experimentally and was disappointed in its limited sloshing. They were going to have to get more. Acting as bartender, Patsy mixed two drinks before turning around and placing a glass in front of the brunette. Delia raised her eyebrows at the meticulously made Manhattan.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Patience?" Delia asked suspiciously, still taking a sip.

"Of course not, I thought you might want a pick-me-up after your hard day," Patsy retorted with a sniff.

"You weren't even listening," Delia accused light-heartedly.

"You got me," Patsy surrendered, spreading her arms wide.

Just then, the two heard their fourteen year old daughter meandering down the stairs.

"Hey Mam?" Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"…Hey what?" Delia asked back, mimicking Ellie's lilting tone while also sharing a knowing look with Patsy. Whenever Ellie wanted something, she tried working over her Welsh mother first before trying her other mum. Patsy and Delia sat and waited as Ellie appeared to gather her thoughts.

"Um, Nicole, Robert, and Mary were talking about going to see a showing of a movie and wanted me to come," Ellie said slowly, hesitantly. Both of her parents frowned at the vague information.

"When?" Patsy asked first.

"In October." Patsy's frown furrowed. That was a month and a half from then, why all the preparation?

"What movie is this?" Delia asked cautiously. Ellie glanced at her phone, looking at a group message where the plans were discussed.

"The…Rocky Horror-"

"THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW?!" Delia practically shrieked as Patsy choked on her drink.

"Uh, yeah, you know it?"

"'Do we know it?'" Delia repeated gleefully, "We have that script memorized!"

Patsy was still trying to not die on her drink. Red faced, she nodded vigorously with what her wife was saying.

"That's still a thing?" Patsy finally managed, after Delia gave her a few thumps on the back.

"I guess…So can I go?" Ellie said quickly, trying to pull a fast one. Patsy's and Delia's faces fell.

"Oh…ah…" Delia stammered, looking at Patsy, "I don't know…"

"But you just said you've seen it, it can't be that bad!" Ellie whined, though she automatically winced right after that, realizing how totally wrong that statement was. When she was home alone after school one day, she had found their movie "Carol", and…well…the rest was history.

"I'm not really comfortable with you going to the showing," Patsy said slowly, "It's one thing to watch it, and another to go to a showing."

"Well, what's the difference?"

Patsy made one of her classic exasperated faces before looking at Delia to take on the conversation.

"Well… everything, sweetie," Delia said with a chuckle, reminiscing, "There's audience participation. Actors act it out while the movie plays in the background. You throw toast and rice and stuff at certain points. You shout a lot and a lot of people dress up as the characters on the movie. It's a cult classic."

The explanation seemed to confuse their daughter even more.

"Deels," Patsy said slowly, "I think I would be fine with her going…I mean, it really is a lot of fun, and as long as she's going with a group…"

Delia bit her lip.

"Okay," she surrendered, "Just as long as you don't do any drugs or come home sloshed. If you do, so help me-"

"Mam, I don't do that stuff," Ellie interrupted irritably, missing Patsy's ironic smirk from behind her. Delia glared at her wife.

"Fine. But you are paying for your own ticket."

A month and a half later…

"And you are to come home right after the showing ends," Patsy was saying to Ellie's group of friends as they were exiting their house at eleven o'clock at night.

"Jeez, Mum, I know!"

"And no drugs," the ginger added.

"There will be no drugs," Nicole reassured Patsy, "Have a good night, Mrs. Busby-Mount!"

"Bye-Bye, have fun!"

Patsy sighed as she shut the door, wondering where all the time went. She wasn't down for long however, for Delia called from up the stairs, "Did they leave?"

"Yes, they've left."

The brunette ran down the stairs, gleefully trotting into the living room, waving a disc in the air.

"I found it!" she sang airily, "Make the popcorn!" Patsy disappeared with a spring in her step into the kitchen, making two bags of popcorn as Delia prepared the movie. Returning, Patsy burst into a fit of laughter as she beheld Delia.

The brunette sat determinedly on the couch, remote at the ready, with a pile of newspaper on the coffee table in front of her. She balanced a loaded water gun on her knee and had arranged a stack of toast on the arm of the couch. On the opposite end was a dozen toilet paper rolls, and in the center of the couch was a bag of rice. The funniest thing, however, was that Delia had changed into a maid's costume, complete with fishnet stockings and leather, high-heeled boots.

"Still a hardcore Magenta, aren't we?" Patsy asked fondly, sitting the popcorn down on the side table, "Who am I supposed to be?" Delia raised her eyebrows.

"…why do you think we have so much toilet paper?" Patsy's face fell.

"Are you shitting me?!" Patsy exclaimed in disbelief, "I am NOT going to be-"

Delia sheepishly held up a gold bikini in response to Patsy's defiance.

"Woe is you," Delia said, holding her ground. Patsy would've argued some more, but her front crumbled at the reference and she cracked a smile.

A half an hour later, after Delia was able to effectively wrap a disgruntled and grumbling Patsy in six rolls of toilet paper, ("You look so fetching, Pats!"), the couple, with the utmost dedication, chanted "Asshole, Slut", questioned Frank-n-Furter at the best moments, and shamelessly made several sexual remarks at the TV. They jumped up and danced the Time Warp, tossed rice, and sang along with each song. When it came time for Rocky to be "born", Delia had fun tearing the toilet paper off of Patsy, as if she were a Christmas present. Shortly after that, however, the couple's attention was soon on each other and no longer on the movie.

"This isn't right, Magenta isn't supposed to get with the creature," Patsy mumbled against Delia's lips.

"Rocky is also not supposed to be a smart ass," Delia muttered back, slipping her fingers underneath Patsy's shoulder straps and slipping them off, "In fact, it would be best if Rocky shut up right now."

Patsy was reduced to a groaning puddle as Delia continued down her body.

Two hours later, Ellie tip-toed into a darkened house, locking the door behind herself. When she blearily entered the living room, she paused to question the pile of torn toilet paper on the floor, the popcorn and rice that crunched under her feet, the newspaper that was littered over the floor, and the discarded articles of clothing that shall remain nameless for the sake of propriety. After a moment of mild interest, Ellie shrugged and hobbled to her room, to collapse on her bed.

She would worry about it in the morning.


	8. Spare Me a Kiss

Delia trotted down the stairs, tugging down her scrubs as she prepared to leave for work. She had just been called out to the pregnancy center she worked at for one of her patients who went into labor early. She grabbed her purse as she walked passed the kitchen and said, "Bye, love!" to Patsy in the living room before freezing and backing up.

Standing in the threshold of the living room, Delia observed her wife sprawled out on the couch, working her way through a bag of Hershey Kisses. The brunette carefully stalked into the room as Patsy watched her in amusement.

"Yes?" Patsy asked coyly, reaching for another novelty.

Delia leaned down and asked, "Can you spare me a Kiss?"

Patsy smiled before reaching up and gently guiding Delia's face lower so she could press her lips on the brunette's.

"You're cute," Delia mumbled against Patsy's lips, through an amused grin, "but I think you know that's NOT what I meant."

Chortling lightly, Patsy smoothly unwrapped the one in her hand before pressing it into Delia's mouth. The brunette chewed thoughtfully, a smirk on her lips. After swallowing, she flashed Patsy a smile.

"You're a darling," she said, lurching forward and placing a chaste kiss on Patsy's lips, "Love you!"

As Delia dashed out of the house, Patsy called, "Love you too!"

Two hours later, Patsy heard the door open over the sound of the hamburger she was browning.

"I'm home!" Ellie announced, plopping her football bag down in the corridor. She went to step further into the house when her mum shouted back, "Cleats off!"

With a groan, Ellie stooped down and tugged off the shoes, mud still clinging to them. Now in slightly sodden socks, (it rained at practice), she made her way into the kitchen and sat herself at the island.

"Tacos?" Ellie asked.

"Mmhmm," Patsy said, stirring it around a bit.

"Did you get an-"

"I texted your mam, she will get an onion on her way back," Patsy sighed, not understanding how her wife and daughter tolerated the tubers.

"Okay. She'd go out on a call?"

"No, she had to go to the Center," Patsy said, "How was practice?"

"Alright," Ellie said with a shrug, like she did every day.

Her daughter went silent, and much to Patsy's displeasure, seemed to gaze at her with a strange expression on her face.

"What?" Patsy demanded.

"You and Mam's anniversary is coming up," Ellie said simply.

"Yes, in two weeks" Patsy said slowly. Of all things for their daughter to notice, she remembered the date of their anniversary?

"Well, what are you going to do?" Ellie asked conversationally. Patsy raised her eyebrows at her daughter.

"I know you are going to Aunt Trixie's," the ginger said evasively. Ellie rolled her eyes.

"But have you got her anything?"

"I'm NOT getting you two a puppy!" Patsy exclaimed, exasperated. Her daughter's face went bright red as she ducked her head, trying to control her laughter.

"But it…just screams romance!" Ellie gasped, doubling over. Patsy spared her a wry smile.

After their laughter died down, Patsy said softly, "Yes, of course, I've got her something."

"Well?" Ellie prodded.

"Hm?" Patsy asked airily, straining the meat, "Oh, what did I get her? I'm not telling you!"

"Why not?!" Ellie pouted.

"Because the first thing you are going to do is tell her," Patsy shot back, now rinsing the meat in the sink.

"You're right," Ellie surrendered forlornly, drawing a chuckle from Patsy.

The ginger returned the meat to the pan over the stove and was rummaging around for the seasoning packets when Ellie spoke again.

"Hey mum?" Ellie asked in a strange tone.

"Yes?"

"What was your first kiss like, with mam?"

Patsy fumbled with the packet and dropped it, not believing what she had just heard come out of her daughter's mouth.

"What?" she stammered.

It was clear her daughter was back-tracking now.

"Well, I mean, I'm fifteen and I don't know these things about my own parents! Like how you met or-"

"Well, why don't we start there!" Patsy squeaked, feeling a rush of affection at Ellie referring to them as 'her own parents'.

Ellie's brow furrowed.

"Didn't you and mam room together at University?"

Patsy's eyes widened incredulously.

"I…what the…absolutely NOT!" Patsy sputtered, her face reddening at the very thought of sharing a room with a wild, 18 year old Delia.

"Oh," Ellie said.

"I met your mam while at university, but we didn't room together," Patsy said after taking a deep breath, "I roomed with your aunt Trixie and I didn't meet your mam until my sophomore year."

"So…"

"So," Patsy continued, adding some water to the meat, "we met in class…and well…yeah."

"That's not very descriptive," Ellie accused idly, earning her a glare from her mum.

"I don't know what else to say," Patsy said, "We kept it under wraps for a good while because neither of us had come out really."

"Then how'd you know?"

"Know what?"

Ellie shot Patsy a pointed look. Patsy suddenly looked down at the meat.

"I think it's done! Why don't we eat?!" Patsy exclaimed, an octave high.

Wordlessly, Ellie held up the unused seasoning packet, an amused look on her face. Patsy held out her hand, but Ellie pulled the packet back.

"Ellie…" Patsy said reproachfully.

"How'd you know?" Ellie demanded. Her ginger mother sighed irritably.

"I didn't," Patsy snapped, "I got drunk one night and kissed her."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Ellie shrieked, packet now laying forgotten on the countertop. Patsy snatched it up and bitterly tore it open.

"I kissed her," Patsy repeated, now stirring the seasoning in, "I had the largest crush on her but I didn't know if she liked me back…in that way."

"What happened?!" Ellie exclaimed.

"I freaked out and tried to leave, but your mam stopped me and said it was okay," Patsy said with a wry smile, "and she made sure to kiss me back."

"Well thank God for that!" Ellie said loudly, drawing a shaky laugh from her mum.

Just then the door opened and Delia called, "Hey, I'm home!" The brunette came in grandly, waving a small plastic baggy at Ellie. Her daughter caught the onion gleefully, and Delia turned to Patsy.

"Spare me a kiss?" Patsy asked shyly.

Smirking slightly, Delia pulled Patsy's head down for a slow and gentle kiss.

"Get a room!" Ellie shouted, throwing the onion at them.


	9. A Rude Guest

Ellie briskly ushered in the hulking boy named Jerry into her home, trying her hardest to not cringe at his presence. They had been grouped together for school and had effectively procrastinated until the project was due in two days. Normally, Ellie never procrastinated, but she Jerry was not the most pleasant person to work with. He was obnoxious and unbelievably disrespectful; in fact, she threw a shoe at the wall when she found out he HAD to come over and work on it at her house, and not vice versa.

She tried to push him past the living room door, but he was a good foot taller than her, so he didn't budge as he openly stared at her parents. Patsy appeared to have just gotten back from a stressful birth, because she lay sprawled on the couch, her head in Delia's lap, her eyes gently closed. Delia was placidly reading a book, while she also ran her fingers through Patsy's ginger hair absentmindedly. The TV was playing a cooking show, though no one was paying attention to it. Neither seemed aware of their attendance until Jerry gave a loud "Oof!" when Ellie pinched him to go forward. Delia's head snapped up and Patsy's eyes lazily opened, and for a second they numbly perceived the rare presence of a male in their home.

(One does gloss over Ellie's closeted gay friend, Jack; Patsy and Delia being the only adults he's come out to.)

"Uh, hi, mum, mam," Ellie hissed through gritted teeth, still trying to shove Jerry forward, "This is Jerry, he's here so we can work on a project for school." And with that, Ellie successfully managed to shove him forward.

"What the hell is his problem?" Patsy muttered, stretching and readjusting herself on Delia's lap.

"He looks like a Dick Johnson," Delia said bitterly, still staring at where the boy just stood.

Patsy raised her eyebrows at the insult from way back in college.

"He's here for a school project," Patsy said peacefully.

"Hmphf," Delia huffed, returning her hand to Patsy's tresses, making the ginger smile contentedly.

There was a pause before Patsy added evilly, "We'll give 'em an hour, then we'll go snooping."

Delia chuckled.

Horrified at how he literally just stood and gawked at her parents, Ellie was swift to throw him in her room and partially close the door. Jerry had a weird smile on his face, as if he found something extremely amusing.

"Wow," he said, "I've never seen them in their natural habitat."

"Their…what?!" Ellie repeated shrilly, not believing her ears.

"You know, lesbians," Jerry continued, "They're so…touchy."

Ellie gaped at her schoolmate. Her parents weren't doing anything graphic, it wasn't like they were freaking groping each other or fornicating on the living room floor. They were in their own home, and they were just relaxing after a long day!

Sadly, it got worse.

Ellie ignored what he said, having nothing to really say in response, and began laying out the needed materials for poster making. She opened up her textbook to the chapter they were reviewing, and looked up expectantly at Jerry.

The boy leaned in closer.

"Do you ever wonder," he breathed dramatically, a glint in his eye, "How on earth they manage to have sex?"

Ellie's jaw dropped.

The very fact that this boy had the indecency to ask her how her parents pleasured themselves was beyond her. On top of that, was he really not able to think that through by himself?!

Ellie slowly stood up.

"Get. Out."

"What?" Jerry asked, looking aggravatingly bewildered.

"Get. Out."

"Calm down Ellie, I was just wondering!"

It's safe to assume this is where Ellie lost her temper.

The nearly sixteen year old girl grabbed Jerry's collar and snarled, "Well, don't hurt yourself thinking about it too hard on your way home!"

And she them pulled him up and shoved him out, escorting him out of her house in a much easier fashion than dragging him in. She then slammed the door shut and locked it.

Patsy lurched up on the couch, having seen Ellie shove the boy out the door.

"That's a world record," Patsy announced, "I don't think I would ever have gotten a man out of my bedroom THAT fast! How long was it, Deels?"

The brunette made a show of looking at her wrist watch.

"Ten minutes!" Delia said, laughter in her eyes. The two women turned expectantly towards their daughter, inviting her in to laugh along with them. Their smiles faded, though, when Ellie suddenly burst into tears.

"Oh, cariad," Delia exclaimed, jumping up to placate her daughter, Patsy rushing up soon after.

"I've got this whole bloody project to do all by myself," Ellie wept.

Patsy shared a look with Delia.

"I'll put the coffee on," Patsy surrendered.

"I'll get the markers and stencils," Delia sighed.


	10. In the Wild

Trixie, Delia, and Patsy sat out on the patio as they watched Ellie play with some neighborhood children in their backyard, using their makeshift football pitch.

Trixie had been rambling on about different topics, though Patsy and Delia didn't really mind.

"It's really nice you have this," Trixie said, gesturing at the pitch with a cigarette-laden hand, "Ellie and the children seem to love it and; oh-my-god-they-are-flirting!"

Patsy jolted up at the exclamation as Delia automatically said, "No they're not."

The trio all leaned forward, watching as a young, sandy-haired boy went chasing after Ellie, who benevolently danced out of his grasp.

Patsy bit her lip. It did in fact appear to be flirting.

Trixie formed two "O"'s with her hands and brought them to her face as she imitated binoculars while also saying in an overly Australian accent, "And we're here, in the wi-ld, where the male has chosen a female to court!"

This earned her a violent kick to the shin from Patsy.

"Ow!" Trixie shouted, "That actually really hurt, Patsy!"

Instead of answering, Patsy looked meaningfully at Delia's slightly panicked expression.

"Delia…" Patsy said, nudging her wife.

"What…what do we do?!" Delia whispered hoarsely.

"Delia, it's okay, she's fine," Patsy chortled.

"Dear Lord, Delia, chill out, will ya?" Trixie said with raised eyebrows, "You've had the talk with her, didn't you?"

Delia and Patsy shared a knowing look.

"Yes, of course we did," Patsy said.

"And you talked about…you know…male stuff?" Trixie asked in a mockingly shy voice, an amused glint in her eye. She knew about The Book they had.

Patsy rolled her eyes.

"We did, Deels, she'll be fine."

"Yeah, you're great parents, she won't do anything stupid," Trixie amended.

Delia still didn't look convinced.

"Here, darling, why don't you go get the food," Patsy placated, "I'll finish this cigarette and help you."

Delia gave them a frown before getting up and disappearing in the house, the moment she was gone, Patsy turned on Trixie.

"I want to know his name, where he lives, where his parents work, and how old he is," she said in a dark tone.

"You are no better than she is," Trixie sighed, tapping some ash in the ashtray.

"I'm worse."


	11. Thank God for Foreplay

Patsy woke lazily to the distant rumblings of thunder. She yawned and stretched before rolling over and spooning Delia, who must've come to bed after Patsy fell asleep.

"Are you awake?" Patsy murmured, pressing her lips on the junction of Delia's neck and shoulder.

"I am now, silly," Delia whispered back, turning over to face her wife.

The two smiled softly at each other, Patsy's fingers plucking at Delia's sleeve idly as the brunette curled a lock of ginger hair out of Patsy's face.

And without any prompting, the two leant in for a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

Patsy smiled against Delia's lips as she worked her hands into her dark tresses.

She loved how easy this had become.

To think that their first time they had tried so desperately to blunder across pleasure, their movements blind and shy. But those days were long gone.

She no longer worried about doing the 'right thing'; she had since memorized that. She had worshipped Delia's body, year after year, and it just got better and better. The very image of Delia coming undone was the most beautiful thing God could have graced the ginger with. The ecstasy and bliss that Patsy brought to her echoed in her ears and Patsy would fall in love all over again.

Patsy hummed contentedly into Delia's mouth as she crawled on top of the brunette. Delia's hands slid underneath the waistband of Patsy's shorts and she grasped her buttocks, making Patsy moan. Patsy pressed her tongue eagerly against Delia's lips, and was soon granted entry into her mouth. The brunette's hands moved up and irritably tugged at Patsy's shirt before roaming underneath it and grasping eagerly at a breast. Chuckling at Delia's impatience, Patsy leaned back, straddling the brunette as she locked a lustful gaze with hers.

The brunette placed her hands on Patsy's waist as the ginger removed her tank top, her torso now bare. Delia's eyes openly ravished Patsy's exposed body, making the taller woman blush slightly. Patsy leaned back down and gave Delia a brazen kiss before the brunette broke it off and moved down to press her lips reverently on Patsy's breasts. Patsy freely moaned, her breath hitching as she felt the heat pooling in her groin. They didn't need to worry about Ellie; she was of the age where she had enough sense to both not come running into their room in the middle of the night and to also ignore any sounds she might hear.

Patsy reached down and hooked Delia's knickers with her fingers before tugging them down lazily, letting her hands roam along the curve of her buttocks, down the slope of the back of her muscled thighs, and the elegant dip of her calves. After tossing the garment casually to the floor, Patsy returned her attention to Delia's rather needy mouth. Delia's hands wound into Patsy's hair as the ginger bit her bottom lip gently, drawing a strangled gasp from the other.

Patsy grinded her hips against Delia's waist wantonly before reaching underneath Delia's nightshirt and feeling along the brunette's navel. Patsy relished the feel of the soft, feathery skin beneath her hands that quavered as Delia gasped for breath. She probed strong abdominal muscles that grew taunt with every needy squirm. Patsy glanced up and felt her heart swell at the sight of open lust on her wife's face.

Eager to satisfy, Patsy tugged Delia's shirt up and over her breasts, making it bunch up around her shoulders. Delia wriggled out of it swiftly and soon Patsy had lowered her lips to Delia's navel, her hands now exploring the brunette's gloriously nude body without interruption. Delia's back arched with pleasure as Patsy kissed a few inches below her belly button, where her waistband would have been. The ginger then migrated up, kissing the valley running vertically down the center of her abdomen as her hands grazed up her sides and groped her soft breasts.

Reaching the desired spot, Patsy took a breast in her mouth, swirling her tongue around a harden nipple as Delia moaned and her hips bucked, her groin rubbing up against Patsy's stomach. Slightly in awe about how aroused they both seemed to be, Patsy moved to the other one, wanting her wife to be good and ready when she moved down below.

But then Patsy froze, her whole body going rigid.

No. It couldn't be.

But there it was.

Delia's expression went from impatience to concern in a matter of seconds as she gazed at Patsy, who hadn't moved from her breast. Patsy wasn't a tease, she was.

"What?" the brunette demanded.

Wordlessly, in an almost cautious motion, Patsy grasped Delia's left hand and pulled it up to feel the underside of her left breast. Hand still over the top of Delia's, Patsy pressed gently, her suddenly alarmed and serious gaze not leaving her wife's. Delia frowned initially, but then her jaw dropped as she felt it.

A small, hardened mass, right THERE.

"Does that hurt?" Patsy asked softly.

"No…" Delia answered truthfully, though her wind was short-circuiting. Was it supposed to hurt?!

Swiftly, Patsy rolled off of her wife and flicked the light on, the amorous mood long gone. Delia lay there, frozen, her palm pressing gently on the lump in shock.

The brunette then looked at her wife, her stunned expression mirrored in Patsy's face.

"Delia…" Patsy began slowly, "We should…get that…"

"It's midnight," Delia choked, a panicked expression on her face.

Patsy, ever the logical and stubborn one, frowned for a moment.

"The Pregnancy Center has a…a…"

"There won't be a technician," Delia pointed out, her tone suddenly emotionless.

"They will page one," Patsy said, raising up and fishing around for her discarded clothes. Delia resembled a lost puppy as she just watched Patsy get dressed. Biting her lip, Patsy took sympathy and began setting out clothes for her to wear. When the brunette didn't move, Patsy gently began to dress her, pressing kisses on her exposed skin before she covered it up.

"Come on, Deels," Patsy urged, though her voice quavered. Shaking herself as if roused from a great slumber, Delia allowed Patsy to pull her on her feet before the ginger knelt down to grasp her shorts and slowly tug them up, after she had made sure to press a kiss on her navel. After she was dressed, Patsy took her hand and led her out of their room, into the kitchen. Picking up her keys from the countertop, Patsy pressed them into Delia's hand.

"Go start the car, I'll go tell Ellie we are leaving," Patsy whispered. Delia's hand clenched Patsy's and didn't release it as her whole body began to tremble.

"Pats," Delia said in a strangled voice.

Patsy lifted Delia's chin up and forced the brunette to look into her tearful eyes.

"I love you, Delia," Patsy murmured, before pressing her forehead against her wife's and closing her eyes.

She took a shuddering breath and added, "I'm not going to lose you again."

The ginger suddenly felt Delia's mouth crash onto hers, in a needy, passionate fashion. And then the Welsh woman broke it off and began to walk towards the door like a zombie.


	12. A Hard Pill to Swallow

Patsy shook their daughter awake.

"I…what the hell mum," Ellie grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Ellie," Patsy whispered, "I'm taking your mam to the hospital."

Ellie immediately shot up.

"What?! What's wrong, what's happened?!"

"I…we… She needs something checked out," Patsy said vaguely.

"What?"

Patsy sucked in a breath and looked up at the ceiling. God, this was hard.

"We found…a lump…"

Ellie stared at her mum, opened mouthed. The statement was pretty universal.

"She's 34," Ellie whispered in shock. Patsy sat down next to her daughter.

"I know," she said, fighting off tears, "but it could be anything…it doesn't have to be…"

"Cancer," Ellie finished softly. There was a pause.

"I'm coming with you," Ellie said, making to get up.

"I…no, you have school!" Patsy exclaimed.

"And my mam might have cancer!"

"Ellie," Patsy said urgently, grasping her daughter by the shoulders, "I know you want to come, I know you love her… but she wouldn't want you to come, sweetie. You know how she is; she wouldn't want you to worry."

"But I am worrying."

"I know," Patsy soothed, "but let us figure out what's going on before we worry too much, okay?"

Ellie looked like she was going to refuse, but then she slowly nodded her head. Patsy kissed her brow before rising up.

"Call us in the morning if we're not back, alright?" Patsy said at the doorway.

"Okay."

"Patsy, Delia!" a nurse exclaimed at the sight of her friends, soaked and disheveled as they walked into the lobby.

Patsy was holding Delia's hand and seemed to be guiding her around.

"Is there a nursing expert here?" Patsy asked in a strained voice.

"Well, of course there is! Why do you ask?" the friend inquired with a frown.

"Delia…needs to be examined," Patsy said slowly, hoping the meaning would come across. The nurse's eyes widened.

"I…I'm afraid we don't have a Mammogram technician here," she murmured, stepping closer to the pair, "but we will see what we can do."

Patsy sat in the corridor, leg jiggling up and down as she felt the urge to light up. Placing her head in her hands, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced at the clock. Two in the morning. The ginger looked back down at her feet and continued with her restless movement. She heard footsteps and her head snapped up.

"Here ya' go," her friend, Jackie, said as she handed her a cup of coffee before taking the seat next to her. Patsy took the Styrofoam cup with numb hands.

"Thanks," Patsy mumbled.

"I rang the tech," Jackie murmured, "He says he'll be here around five…apparently your name has gotten around to Chelsea."

Patsy gave a short, dry laugh that came out choked. The dark-haired woman bit her lip anxiously before placing a reassuring hand on Patsy's back.

"Patsy, everything is going to be alright," she said soothingly. The ginger fidgeted.

"I don't want to lose her," Patsy whispered hoarsely, fighting off tears.

"You won't," Jackie said with utter certainty.

The two looked up as the door opened and the Nursing technician, Dr. Palstine, came out.

The woman spotted Patsy and stepped towards her with an extended hand.

"You must be Delia's wife," she said simply as they shook hands. Patsy numbly nodded.

"Well, I'm not an oncologist," she said briskly, "but a mammogram is most definitely in order. Your wife is otherwise in fine shape, and the mass seems to be exceedingly small and intact, which is promising."

Patsy lowered her gaze and fitfully nodded at the floor.

"May I…go…" Patsy asked hoarsely, gesturing desperately at the examination room.

"Of course you can," Dr. Palstine said, "We will come get you when the technician arrives."

Patsy didn't remember opening the door, or how she managed to move her legs into the room. All she knew was Delia, sitting on the examination table, wearing a hospital gown, tears streaking down her face.

"Darling," Patsy sputtered, dashing over to her.

And then she felt the brunette wrap her arms desperately around her, she smelled her scent and felt her sobbing against her shoulder and all she could do was hold her beautiful wife.


	13. The Truth that No One Wants to Hear

Five hours later, Patsy opened the door to let a zombie-like Delia into their house.

The red head trailed after the Welshwoman into the living room and watched as she fell onto the couch, staring at the TV screen blankly. Patsy warily followed until she was sitting next to her, waiting for the other to say something. She quietly observed her red, swollen eyes, and her untidy hair still damp from her tears.

"Delia," Patsy breathed guardedly.

The brunette blinked.

"I need to call my mam," she croaked, though she made no movement to do so.

Softly, as if touching a deity, Patsy reached up and reverently brushed her fingertips along Delia's cheek, making the other draw a shaky breath.

"You need to get some sleep, darling," Patsy murmured softly.

Very slowly, Delia turned to face Patsy.

"I can't," she gasped, fresh tears beginning to trail down her cheeks. Patsy lent forward and pressed her lips over Delia's, tasting the salt from her tears.

"You are so magnificent, sweetie," Patsy shushed, pressing Delia back on the couch, "I love you so much."

Delia pulled back from the kiss, her hands forming into fists as she clutched Patsy's jacket frantically.

"Patsy, I'm so scared," she gasped before breaking off into a sob.

"Of course you are, sweetie," Patsy said in a hoarse voice, "I'm here for you, Deels, I've got you."

"I know you are," Delia wept, pulling the other in for a frantic kiss.

Their kissing continued until Delia broke down into silent sobs that racked her body, and her tears soaked Patsy's T-shirt. The red head had allowed a few silent tears streak down her own face, but kept on trying to remind herself to stay strong. Patsy brushed her lips on Delia's brow, and remained still as the brunette's sobs disintegrated into sputtering gasps before completely ceasing altogether. It took Patsy several moments to realize that she had in fact cried herself to sleep. Moving lithely, Patsy gently disentangled her limps from Delia's before fixing her arms underneath her form and lifting up with a soft grunt.

Patsy was never the athletic type.

Okay, that was partially a lie.

In her late teens she had developed quite the arm for fencing, but any other sports involved to too much dependency on other people or were too personal for her liking. While she always had the heart for sports, she never flaunted it to other people. She preferred to enjoy it on her own time, and when she did she was very good at it.

But as she picked up her wife in bridal fashion, it no longer mattered about her physique or skill in the gym. What mattered was that Delia needed to get from the couch to their bed without her beautiful, blessed feet touching the ground. The least that could be said was that Patsy surprised herself with her own strength as she gently deposited Delia on the bed before removing her shoes and tucking her in. Wiping away her own tears, Patsy left the room and softly shut the door, needing to think things through.

She wondered into the kitchen in a daze. She had initially intended to put the kettle on, but she soon forgot that idea, seating herself on a stool at the counter. The ginger sat there for God knows how long, staring into nothingness and her mind going blank.

Delia had breast cancer.

The name 'Delia' and the term 'breast cancer' sounded weird in the same sentence together. In fact, it seemed almost damnable that they were; a sin against nature. The brunette was too cheery, too good to be ill with such a disease. She was too young. Only old people on those nursing home ads got cancer. People who didn't exercise properly, or eat right; something Delia did every day. Delia had done nothing to deserve this; it was perverse that she did.

It was WRONG.

Patsy placed her elbows on the counter and buried her face in her hands.

She had already almost lost Delia during the Unspeakable car accident, why was this happening to them? It wasn't fair.

But then again, Patsy was being irrational. She was in denial.

Her body started shaking and Patsy began to gasp for breath, and it took several moments for her to realize she was sobbing. She cried bitterly for an indiscernible amount of time, until her phone buzzed.

It was a text from Trixie. Oh right. To other people, the world was still turning while theirs crumbled to dust in the matter of a day.

Wanna go for drinks tonight?! 11:45 am

Patsy took some shuddering deep breaths before wiping away her tears with the back of her sleeve.

Now came the hard part.

Delia needed to sleep; the poor soul would have to go back in the next day to finalize a treatment plan with the oncologist that Dr. Turner referred them to. They said surgery looked like the best option, but that was if the mass hadn't travelled to other parts of the body. Patsy stared at her phone numbly, not knowing what to say. How does one reveal that one's wife was riddled with cancer to their best friend?

How did you tell said wife's parents?

…your coworkers?

…your daughter?

Patsy laid her head on the counter to stifle her remaining sniffles as she tried to regain her thoughts. Normally this was a conversation one had face-to-face, but Delia was exhausted and quite frankly, Patsy wasn't in the mood for company. The ginger could call Trixie, and tell her coworkers. Delia would want to tell her mother and father.

Patsy got up and went to the cabinet before pouring a glass of whiskey and drinking it straight. She then brought up her conversation with Trixie and punched the call button at the top.

It rang twice.

"Patsy? Is it your lunch break?" Trixie asked automatically in disbelief. They hardly ever had breaks that over lapped.

Numbly, Patsy also remembered that yes, she had work that day. And no, she did not call in sick. That was probably why she had so many missed calls.

"Trix-" Patsy choked, suddenly not able to find the words to tell her.

"Yes? Is everything alright?"

Patsy glanced at her empty glass before releasing a half sob.

"No," she wept simply.

For several minutes Trixie listened to Patsy sobbing on the other line, beyond words.

"What's wrong?!" Trixie exclaimed softly, when the sobbing abated somewhat, already guessing the severity of it. Nothing made Patsy Mount weep like that.

"D-Delia," the ginger stuttered, "We found out…sh-she has cancer…breast c-cancer."

There was silence on the other line.

"Oh…my God," Trixie breathed softly, her voice stricken, "I…oh, Patsy! Oh my God!"

Soon the pixie-haired blonde was crying in disbelief.

"Patsy!" she wept, "I'm so sorry! How…how is she? Is she bad?"

"She's so scared, Trix," Patsy whispered, taking deep, shaky breaths, "I…I don't know what to tell her. I…I have to be strong for her, but I'm scared too!" It felt good to finally confess her feelings without having to worry her already occupied wife with them.

"Of course you are darling! Especially after…after…" Trixie stammered, "Do you need me to come over?"

"I think we're good," Patsy gasped, "She's finally fallen asleep, and I have to tell Ellie…"

Ellie.

Oh…SHIT.

"You haven't told her yet?!" Trixie whispered hoarsely.

"It's something we have to tell her together, face-to-face," Patsy mumbled.

"Okay. Do you need anything? Just say the word, I'll do it."

"No, thank you Trixie," Patsy murmured, "I just…I can't…"

"I know, sweetie, I know," Trixie shushed, "You sound like you need some sleep too. Go to her, hold on to her; I'll call later tonight, okay? You need her, Patsy, I can hear it in your voice. And she definitely needs you as well."

"Okay," Patsy said numbly, "Thanks Trixie."


	14. Trying to Move On

Ellie walked into the house so quietly, Patsy almost didn't hear her enter. The ginger sat quietly in the living room, waiting for her daughter with a bottle of Maker's Mark sitting on the side table and a half-full tumbler in her hand. At the appearance of Ellie, Patsy gestured for her enter.

Whether her daughter noticed the tear-streaks or swollen eyes, she didn't say anything.

She softly sat down next to Patsy, her expression anxious and frightened.

The ginger put the tumbler on the side table and turned to where they were facing each other head on.

"Where's mam?" Ellie whispered.

"She's sleeping, we mustn't wake her," Patsy murmured back.

The two eyed each other warily.

"Is it…" Ellie asked hoarsely. Her mum's expression got terribly sorrowful before she slowly began to nod, and fresh tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

"Mum-" Ellie gasped, lurching forward and hugging the ginger as her mother hugged her tightly back.

"I know, sweetie, I know," Patsy murmured as her daughter's form shook violently with sobs, "Let it out, it is okay, I have you."

"Is she okay?" Ellie mumbled against Patsy's chest fitfully.

"She's scared, honey," Patsy whispered back, "We have to be strong for her, okay?"

Ellie nodded as she continued to weep in Patsy's arms.

The next week was a blur.

Mrs. and Mr. Busby arrived the night Delia called them up and told them, making the flat suddenly very crowded. Ellie called in sick for two days, the first to let her weep in bed, (Patsy had taken Delia to an appointment, and Grandma Busby tried to rouse her from her grieving but to no avail. When they got home, Delia went in there alone and after fifteen minutes they both emerged, though no one knew what was said between them.) The second time was so that they could all go out to the park the day before Delia's scheduled surgery.

Surgery.

The word was a menace within itself.

Patsy remembered taking Delia's hand and leading her away from the family for a moment, taking a rather romantic stroll along the pond to an isolated bench behind some tall grasses. Several sleepless nights and having been put off food had made both of them rather gaunt and have deep bags under their eyes, along with a perpetually permanent red tint to their eyes. Sitting down, they stared at the koi fish for quite some time in silence.

"Patsy," Delia began softly, taking her wife's hand in hers.

The ginger squeezed it gently and glanced at the brunette.

"About tomorrow-" Delia whispered, only to be immediately shushed by her wife.

"I love you, Delia," the ginger murmured, "In sickness and in health."

Delia looked at the other tearfully in a pained fashion.

"I love you too, for better or for worse," the brunette said in a hushed tone, "But if…if something happens…"

"-Delia, please, don't you dare-"

"Patsy, let me finish," Delia interrupted sharply, "I…I want you to know that I have always loved you, so, so much, ever since I first saw you…I…I…" She broke off as fat, hot tears slid down her cheeks and she lurched forward to press her lips on Patsy's. The ginger eagerly complied, while gently wiping Delia's tears away with her thumbs.

"I know, Deels," Patsy murmured after they broke apart, "but nothing is going to happen tomorrow, other than you going in there and getting this removed and being cured of cancer."

"You still have utter confidence in modern medicine, don't you?" Delia said teasingly, smiling for the first time in days.

"'Course I do," Patsy said simply, "And in you."


	15. Surgery Prep

As nature is melancholic and morbid, the unpleasantness of the next day arrived rather quickly. At nine in the morning, Patsy sat dully in the corridor before being roused by a nurse that she could enter the assigned hospital room.

She stood and soon felt her daughter grip her hand, tightly.

The ginger glanced down and squeezed reassuringly back before stepping forward, the Busby's a step behind them.

The room was rather spacious, with a small extension into some sort of living arrangement, with a TV and a couch by the window. But that went ignored for a moment as the trio crowded around Delia's hospital bed, the brunette dressed in a hospital gown and a head cap over her hair. An IV had been placed over her right hand and a monitor on her forefinger. She smiled morosely at the sight of her family.

"You have about fifteen minutes, the doctor is on his way up here," the nurse said softly, "I'll be in here to give her some drugs and then we'll walk her down to surgery."

For a second the four just warily looked at each other, unsure of how to feel. They had all shed their tears, and now was the moment of truth.

"We love you, Delia," Mrs. Busby murmured, grasping her hand, "We'll be here when you wake up, cariad."

"Love you too," Delia said hoarsely, squeezing gently back. Mrs. Busby stepped back to let her quiet husband through to kiss his daughter on the brow and share a knowing look with her.

For them, nothing needed to be said.

The Busby's pulled back, letting Ellie and Patsy file through.

"Mam…" Ellie croaked before lurching forward and hugging her Welsh mother.

Delia was quick to hug back as a few tears escaped and trailed down her cheeks.

"'so 'kay," Delia murmured in Ellie's ear. Ellie nodded slowly into Delia's shoulder before abruptly pulling back and bitterly wiping away her tears. She spared her mother a watery smile before stepping away, and Patsy stood at her wife's bed side.

The ginger reverently knelt down so her face was level with Delia's. The room got oddly quiet as the atmosphere became sullenly momentous, not unlike that of a cathedral on Good Friday.

The two looked at each other for a long moment.

"Delia," Patsy murmured softly, "Do you remember what I told you on our honeymoon?" For a moment the brunette raised her eyebrows and glanced at the rest of the family before risking a scandalous smile.

"Well, Pats, there were A LOT of things said, if I remember correctly."

Patsy allowed herself to crack an amused smile.

Looking down at her hand as it trailed over Delia's forearm, Patsy murmured, "I told you that you were the most beautiful thing I had ever come across and I would always love you, no matter what."

Delia's eyes softened as she recognized the promise.

"Yes, I remember," Delia whispered soothingly. Patsy's eyes slowly moved up until she locked her gaze with her wife's. She then shifted and leaned over the bed to take Delia's lips with her own in a chaste, yet passionate fashion, the brunette responding eagerly. Behind them, the Busby's shifted; the last time they saw them kiss was at their wedding.

"Don't leave me," Delia pleaded softly as they pressed their foreheads together, just as an authoritative knock echoed in the room.

"I won't," Patsy promised.

"Now, this is just a little morphine and some suppressants to calm you down," a nurse said, pulling out a prepared injectable. Everyone watched warily as the nurse injected it into a port in Delia's IV and two other nurses began to detach Delia's monitors as they prepared to move.

A quiet moment passed, in which Patsy gently rubbed the inside of Delia's forearm, searching for a sign that the drugs had kicked in.

The team of nurses cautioned the ginger before they tugged the bed forward and migrated into the corridor.

The brunette suddenly gave a start.

"Jeez," she slurred, slumping down into her mountain of pillows.

"How do you feel? Okay?" Patsy asked, suppressing a smirk.

"Yep, yep, yep!" Delia hummed, her eyes becoming glassy, "What is IN this?"

Beside them, a friendly nurse chortled as he gave the two a reassuring smile.

"We are just moving down the corridor," he narrated as Patsy walked easily with them, the Busby's having urged her to escort Delia to surgery, "but then you'll have to return to the waiting room."

"Noooo," Delia slurred mutinously. Her eyes were fluttering as she appeared to struggle with keeping them open.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Busby-Mount," he said sympathetically, addressing Delia, "but you will have to wait and see your wife again when you wake up." The brunette's hand gripped Patsy's firmly at this, though every other part of her body seemed to be relaxing due to the drugs.

"Deels," Patsy said sternly as they reached the double-doors and the nurses all turned and looked expectantly at the ginger.

"Pats…no…"

With a heavy sigh, Patsy leaned down and brushed her lips on Delia's numb ones.

"I'll be here when you wake up, love," she murmured, "It's okay, you are going to be brilliant."

"I 'uv 'oooh," the brunette slurred.

"I love you too, silly," Patsy whispered back. Delia's grip loosened and Patsy sullenly retracted her hand.

"We've got her from here," another nurse offered with a smile.

And with that, Patsy watched as her wife disappeared beyond the doors.


	16. Coping

Patsy sat in the waiting room, her heart pounding as her daughter slumped on her shoulder, asleep. It was around lunchtime, and the Busby's had went to the café to get something to eat. The ginger didn't move, for the sake of Ellie's rest, the poor girl not having a wink of it since this fiasco began. But she needed to find a way to calm her racing heart.

Patsy closed her eyes and tried determinedly to think of something happy for a change.

What made her happiest?

Delia. Without a doubt, without a second thought.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Patsy began to procure all of her thoughts on Delia.

Naturally, she began to think of their wedding night.

*Flashbacks*

~The sound of waves crashing on the beach through the open windows was drowned out by heavy moans and proclamations of love~

Patsy leaned her head forward and began to breathe through her nose.

~The moonlight alighted on their skin, making it appear stark white. Patsy riding Delia's fingers and coming apart at the seams, crying out her name as the brunette brought utter ecstasy to every fiber of her being~

~Delia's flushed cheeks as her dimples contorted them, smiling belatedly down at Patsy, lust in her eyes, bodies moving rhythmically against each other, pleasure suffusing them until they felt they would burst~

Patsy's heartbeat began to slow.

~Love was in every movement, the reason behind every look and touch; the tenderness in their gestures made everything even more sacred, amplifying the meaning behind the titles they had just adopted only a few hours ago~

Patsy's breathing deepened.

~Watching pleasure come over Delia as the brunette sweetly cried out, tears in her eyes before Patsy swiftly kissed them away~

The tension in Patsy's limbs began to dissipate and she relaxed slightly.

~Finally collapsing on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, suppressing their giggles as the first rays of dawn touched the horizon~

Patsy's body completely relaxed and she found a soft smile on her lips as she remembered that night in vivid detail. The reflection was not a moment of sensuality for her, but rather a tender memory, reminding her of the happy love that they shared. Glancing at the clock, Patsy returned to her silent vigil, praying that everything would turn out okay.


	17. To Dream During Surgery

Delia was having the weirdest dream.

She was walking through London, though the streets were deserted accept for these life-sized gummy bears that were meandering around casually. She thought nothing of it, in fact it seemed very acceptable that there would be gigantic gummy bears walking the streets of London. She paused at a street to let a sizable herd of unicorns to cross in front of her. One of the beasts turned and began to talk to her.

"Aren't you late for something?" it snorted in a deep voice.

Delia simply shrugged. She had no idea what it was talking about.

With a toss of its silvery mane, he trotted off to join the group that was plodding away. Looking after it in awe, she missed a short figure march up to her knee and nudge her.

It was a bloody gnome.

"Come along, you're late! The queen was expecting you ages ago!" it squeaked shrilly, grasping her hand and tugging her forward impatiently.

"What?" Delia stuttered.

The next moment, they stood in a large darkened room and before a large, toad-like woman who glared down at her. She wore a pink suit but her hair was shaped in the form of a heart.

"You are late! Off with her head!"

Delia suddenly realized she was in some sort of cross-over nightmare involving Professor Umbridge and the Queen of Hearts. She just stood there numbly as two guards shaped as cards marched forward, raised and axe and swung…

Delia was in a kneeling position, glancing over barricade at an armored figure that was being shot at. Glancing over, she spotted Patsy next to her, shooting wildly at the figure.

"Ah, there you are! Quick, I think we are breaching its defenses!" Patsy said, before leaping over the balustrade and running at the hulking figure, shouting incoherently and shooting still. The figure brought up a large sword and before Delia could shout, the ginger was skewered and her body disappeared with a flash of blue light.

"Pats!" Delia yelled in shock.

"What are you still doing here?!" a voice demanded beside her.

Stunned, Delia turned and saw Patsy had reappeared at her elbow, now brandishing a grenade launcher.

"I've already regenerated ten times, I think it's you turn to take a shot at it!" Patsy said, shoving the weapon in Delia's hands and throwing her around the barricade.

That's what it was. A video game.

With a sigh, Delia jogged at the figure and pulled the trigger, though it seemed to have no effect on it whatsoever. She neared it and the creature struck, and she disappeared in a flash of light.

She did this for an indiscernible amount of time. Reappearing at the back of the assault, moving forward amongst people she knew only to spy the creature up close, arm herself and run at it mindlessly. She'd then be mortally struck and the cycle would start anew. While she was having fun, being killed over and over again without away progress was getting rather tiresome. With a sigh, she threw her assault rifle down after emptying it and angrily walked up to the creature, armed with nothing. The armed figure cocked a helmeted head and appeared to gaze at her curiously.

"Well?!" Delia demanded.

The thing, whatever it was, chuckled before reached out and twisting Delia over, to where she was bent backwards, her neck exposed. With a hiss of steel, she felt a sharp sting and soon she felt the warmth of blood cascading down her front and filling her mouth as she gurgled in alarm…


	18. A Strange Sensation

Delia gave a start, coming to her senses in darkness. She had no idea how long she lay there, not thinking; it could have been a minute or a whole eternity. She then began to sense that she in fact had limbs, though she didn't know where they were.

She knew she had limbs because she felt her fingers, and her hands, and her wrists, as well as her toes, feet and ankles. But in space, she couldn't for the life of her figure out where they were. For a moment she was worried, but then she realized how spectacularly marvelous it was to have limbs in the first place! If she could feel them, then she would place them later; that was merely a minor detail. Then she sensed her throat and her mouth, remarkably intact, and her torso. But then she realized that she FELT something stroking her back.

The movement was gentle and started just below her shoulder blades and ended at the small of her back. She knew she wasn't stroking her own back, how could she if she didn't know where her body was in space?! Delia began to cautiously stretch her mind, testing her senses.

She felt pressure on one side of her body…was she laying on her side? She had a dry, metallic taste in her mouth as she swallowed. She breathed in and for the first time registered scent, smelling a pungent odor that slightly burned her nose. She then heard sounds, which blended together and didn't really amount to much of anything in her mind. For a moment, she concentrated on her back.

The thing, whatever it was, seemed to follow her spine, so she continued down and finally discovered her legs! They were bent at the knee, curving her spine as she lay curled up. From her shoulder blades she then easily placed her arms, tucked against her chest. Very pleased with this discovery, Delia pondered the sounds she was hearing and the stroking of her back. There was a lilting tone, which was followed by another familiar lower tone. Where those…voices? Delia didn't know; while she heard them, she definitely could not make out what they were saying. No bother.

The stroking continued and Delia found that she rather enjoyed the feeling. It was gentle and reassuring, and after a few minutes of thought, she had another epiphany.

Patsy!

Of course, now the low voice and the stroking made sense! She felt that she was forgetting something rather important, but she brushed it off, not wanting to worry about it. Instead, she took pleasure in remembering Patsy; how on earth could she have forgotten her?!

Delia toyed with the idea of moving but stopped. She found that if she could in fact move, (she actually wasn't sure if she could at that point), she was quite comfortable where she was, and to be completely honest, was beginning to get very drowsy, even though she was technically semiconscious.

And if Patsy was sitting there stroking her back in the middle of the night and speaking with someone in their room, (again, why was there someone in their room?!), it didn't matter if Delia fell back asleep, Patsy was watching over her. She was safe. And she needed sleep.

Wait.

Why did she say that?

Delia felt her heart quicken.

Oh…SHIT.

She had CANCER surgery tomorrow!

How the hell did she forget?!

Oh dear, she thought, she had to stop thinking about it if she was going to get some sleep.

But of course, as one tries to NOT think of something, that thought comes to the front of their minds and for a moment, everything becomes an angry cluster-fuck. Delia tried to restrain her desperation, because if she moved her newly found limbs then she would only wake-up even more, and be even further away from her goal.

But she felt a mumbled moan escape her lips, and the voices stopped, and Patsy's hand froze in the center of her back.

No, Pats, she thought, don't stop!

She released another soft whine.

The rubbing continued, but as she went to continue her explorations of her body, she distinctly heard the words, "More morphine."

Delia was about to wonder where on earth and why the hell Patsy had morphine, but then she was plunged back into her waking dreams.


	19. Patience

Patsy rubbed Delia's back rhythmically as she spoke quietly with Trixie and Barbara around the hospital bed.

"…he said it looks good," Trixie was saying to Barbara, filling her in, "he'll check over the tests tomorrow, but he doesn't think she'll need chemo."

Trixie had arrived a few hours before Delia came out of surgery, and was there to harass the matron into letting them see Delia. They never let visitors see family members so soon in post-op, but Trixie and Patsy were very persuasive and their medical professions didn't go unnoticed. The only condition was that Ellie and the Busby's were in no way qualified to go back there, so after a swift conversation, it was settled and the two were led back.

The pair had seen surgeries, had even assisted in some occasions, but it was weird to see Delia laying on the large bed, several wires connecting her to various monitors as she came off the anesthesia. A cloth covered her eyes as was customary, for it was so soon after surgery that she still had her breathing tube in. The room was frigid, but the nurses had placed a thick blanket over Delia and had even put fuzzy pink socks on her feet. The two midwives rushed over to her bed, Patsy brushing a thumb over a partially covered cheek and Trixie looking down forlornly. They stayed until the nurse urged them back into the waiting room.

When they returned, they found Phyllis conversing lightly with Mrs. and Mr. Busby was Ellie listening impassively. Mildly surprised that the senior midwife had shown, they hugged and discussed Delia's current condition with everyone. Phyllis could only stay for so long however, so she left an hour later, leaving a box of assorted chocolates.

They finally brought Delia back to them at a little after six at night, and Patsy instantly posted herself at her side and began to rub her back. The breathing tube was gone, along with most of the wires and monitors. Delia breathed deeply and evenly, obviously still under the effects of drugs, so everyone spoke in hushed tones if they felt the need to say something. Around seven, Delia began to stir, but she only released a distant moan, in which the present nurse insisted on administering more morphine. The brunette quickly quieted after that.

At eight, a nurse came by and said that all visitors needed to leave. Patsy hugged Delia's parents, kissed her daughter on her cheek, and bid farewell to Trixie and Barbara.

The nurse came back around at 8:30 to deposit a blanket and pillow for Patsy to sleep on, but she was swift to forgo it and crawl next to her wife on the hospital bed.


	20. Some Good News

Delia was suddenly aware of her senses.

She was curled in fetal position and lay next to Patsy, who she could hear breathing next to her. Delia curled her toes and discovered that she was wearing fuzzy socks; a pleasant surprise, but she did not recall putting them on. Too content to move, and feeling actually a little woozy, Delia lay there, dreading the upcoming surgery.

She felt Patsy stir.

"Pat-sy," Delia slurred, finding her tongue to feel thick and numb.

The movement froze.

"Deels?" Patsy mumbled back, probably just then waking up.

"I don' wanna go to-day," Delia garbled, eyes firmly shut.

"Go where, sweetie?" Patsy questioned, sounding more awake.

"The sur-gery," she said, exasperated. There was an odd pause.

"Delia, you've already had the surgery," Patsy said back, sounding both surprised and amused.

"…huh?"

"Yes. You are waking up from it now."

For the first time, Delia cracked an eye open to glower at her wife. Patsy's face took a moment to come into focus, but when it did, Delia's eyes widened. They were not in their bedroom. The brunette looked down at her hands and saw the IV plastered to the back of her hand, and the clamp on her forefinger. As realization and memories began to flood back, Delia raised her eyebrows.

"…oh," she said softly. Patsy smiled ruefully back at her, her face barely visible in the dimness. Patsy stroked Delia's cheek with her thumb. Delia leaned into the touch, her muscles cramping from being in the same position for so long.

"What happened?" the brunette asked softly as Patsy scooted even closer, resting a hand on Delia's elbow.

"You were brilliant," Patsy purred, "The doctor says he'll look at the tests tomorrow, but he thinks he got all of it."

Delia smiled sleepily.

Patsy moved closer and gently kissed Delia, the brunette's lips still numb and sluggish as she tried to kiss back. When the ginger pulled back, Delia went to move her arms, but then seemed to decide against it.

A concerned look flashed across Patsy's face.

"Are you in pain?" Patsy asked anxiously.

"No."

Okay, that was partially a lie.

When Delia went to move her upper limbs, she became aware of the left side of her chest beginning to ache, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Patsy frowned, not believing her wife.

"I can ring for a nurse, Deels, you can get more morphine."

"Well, allow me some time with you sober," Delia scoffed, using her right hand to tug at Patsy's shirt. With a smirk, Patsy complied and crawled even closer, until their bodies were flush against each other. Patsy placed an arm underneath Delia's head and the brunette used it as a pillow, her own hand trailing along Patsy's side. With her free hand, Patsy wriggled underneath Delia's thick blanket, her bare feet brushing up against Delia's legs.

"You're feet are freezing," Delia complained.

"Well, I'm sorry, I forgot to ask for fuzzy socks," Patsy said sardonically, adding a playful smile as she tucked her feet beneath a fold of the blanket.

"What time is it?" Delia asked, suppressing a yawn. The ginger glanced at her wristwatch.

"Eleven," she whispered, snuggling closer to Delia.

"How's…how's Ellie?" Delia asked hoarsely. Patsy's fingers idly stroked Delia's tresses thoughtfully.

"I think she's okay," Patsy said slowly, "She got some sleep during the surgery, but I could tell she was a little freaked out."

Delia's face fell.

"I miss her," Delia whimpered.

"I do too," Patsy sighed, "but right now, you need to focus on getting better."

Delia rolled her eyes, but fell silent. She could now feel her heart beat throbbing as the ache from her chest began to fall in waves.

"Deels…" Patsy murmured, seeing her wife wince.

"Maybe now's a good time for that morphine," Delia whispered wryly. Patsy leaned back and pressed a buzzer on the wall.

"I'll have to make out of here like Speedy Gonzales," Patsy said, beginning to disentangle their limbs.

"Pats, no," Delia said sharply, "We just got comfortable."

The ginger stopped and spared her wife a scandalous look.

"We are breaking hospital rules," Patsy said neutrally.

"And I had cancer surgery," Delia sniffed, "Forgive me if I don't give a damn about hospital regulations."

Patsy flashed the other a smile before snuggling back and wrapping her in a hug. Pressing their foreheads together, Delia hummed happily, despite the growing ache in her chest. Several seconds later, the door creaked open and a nurse slipped inside.

She seemed to take a moment to absorb the scene, and then decided to not address it.

"Time for more morphine?" she asked gently.

"Please," Patsy said, smiling softly.

The nurse disappeared momentarily before returning with a syringe and a large glass vial. She upturned the vial and extracted a sizable amount of morphine before approaching Delia's IV stand.

"This should last you all night," she said, removing the cover off the port in the line, "If not, we'll switch to Norco." Patsy and Delia raised their eyebrows at this.

The nurse inserted the needle and pushed the plunger down before removing it and replacing the cover.

"There you go! Have a good night!"

"Thank you," Patsy murmured, watching as a glazed look came over Delia.

The nurse left and Patsy leant forward to capture Delia's numb lips with hers.

"Good night, my love," Patsy said softly, sadly.

"Pats…" Delia whimpered drowsily, a fog encompassing her and making everything fuzzy.

"I'll be right here when you wake up, darling, don't you worry," Patsy breathed, leaning in for another kiss.

"Car-i-ad, I… 'uv… ooooh…" Delia slurred, eyes fluttering as she struggled to keep them open.

"I love you too, so, so much."

"Pa…'sy." Delia said softly. Patsy pressed their bodies flush against each other and kissed the tip of Delia's nose before placing her forehead against the brunette's.

"I'm right here," Patsy murmured, "Now go to sleep."

Delia only managed a soft, indignant snort before going silent, her breathing deepening as she fell into a deep, drug-induced sleep.


	21. Recovery

The next morning a flood of people had gathered in the waiting room, as the clock neared eight o'clock. Delia knew none of this as Patsy and another nurse urged her into a wheelchair after breakfast, Patsy saying she wanted to go on a 'walk' with Delia, which was actually more like a 'roll'. When they entered the waiting room, the crowd jumped up and Delia was bombarded with hugs, flowers, and balloons. In the back, standing quietly off to the side, was a gaggle of nuns who looked oddly out of place among their other friends and family.

When Delia saw them, she burst into tears.

Sister Julienne swept down and hugged Delia before taking her hands and smiling kindly down at the brunette. Next was Sister Mary Cynthia, who was much more exuberant, and then Sister Monica Joan, who said something about star alignment and Saturn. Lastly was Sister Winifred, who looked slightly bitter about being there, though she nevertheless bent down to give Delia a hug before stepping back as if the brunette was a snake.

The crowd finally sat down and conversation broke out as they discussed a multitude of things, having not seen each other for a good long while. Ellie came up to her parents who wrapped her into a large hug before she seated herself on the other side of Delia, talking softly with her Welsh mother. Trixie started speaking with Mrs. Busby, and Barbara had found herself stuck between Phyllis and Sister Monica Joan. They spoke until the clock tuned noon, and they were forced to disperse.

The Busby-Mount family had been in the hospital for two days, and Patsy was in desperate need of a shower.

The doctors wished to observe Delia a little while longer, because the tumor had been in some muscle tissue, and they were worried about a relapse. Quite forlornly, Patsy expressed her need to Delia, who was playing cards with Trixie and Sister Mary Cynthia.

"Okay, cariad," Delia had said, not exactly paying attention.

Patsy leant over and kissed Delia on the cheek before the Welshwoman snatched her hand and pulled her in for a proper kiss, which was odd, kissing in front of a nun. Smiling gently, Patsy turned to Ellie, who had been trying to teach Trixie how to play, but it appeared that she wasn't doing a terribly good job. Her daughter glanced up at her mother's expectant look before she scrambled up and bid farewell to Delia before the two departed.

The thing was, Patsy had something else in mind as well.


	22. A New Family Member

Delia had always wanted a puppy.

No, like literally.

Before they had even discussed a child, it had been a puppy.

In retrospect, Patsy had always stood her ground, but looking back, she felt slightly guilty about being so adamant about the issue. She was never a dog person; they were too needy and craved too much attention. But in lo of recent happenings, Patsy really wanted to do something special for Delia. And because her wife was going to be cooped up at home for a month or so, well, why not?

The moment the mother and daughter got in the car, Ellie turned on Patsy.

"What is it?" she demanded. Patsy allowed herself a wry smile. They knew each other so well.

Patsy didn't answer, instead pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards their flat.

"Mum?"

Patsy looked determinedly straight ahead.

"How would…you like it…if we…erm…I…got your mam…a…"

"PUPPY?!"

"I haven't the slightest clue what breed," Patsy was saying as they pulled into their drive. Ellie had a radiant smile plastered on her face as she bounced up and down on her seat.

"It shouldn't matter, mam will absolutely love it!"

"That's not my point," Patsy said, smiling despite herself, "If I've been holding out this long, it needs to be special."

"Why would you care, you hate dogs anyway."

"I never said that!" Patsy exclaimed as they exited the car, "I like dogs! I just am not a dog person!"

"So you are saying you're a cat person?" Ellie asked with a cocked eyebrow. She had never thought her ginger mother being a cat person.

"Absolutely not! If anything, I'm a fish person! Specifically a Beta fish person!"

Ellie burst out laughing at this statement. Wow, if anyone was a fish person, it was definitely her mum. They opened the door and stomped into the flat before entering the kitchen and sifting through the cabinets for something to drink.

"Well, isn't it kind of obvious what kind of breed to get her?" Ellie asked thoughtfully as she seated herself at the counter.

Patsy set out some glasses before sparing her daughter a curious look.

"Remember," Patsy said, "not a dog person, so no, it's not obvious."

"Mum, you need to get her a Welsh corgi."

"THAT'S what it looks like?!" Patsy exclaimed as the two bent over Ellie's phone.

"Aren't they the cutest?!" Ellie said excitedly.

"They look like a tripping hazard," Patsy sniffed.

"Mum," Ellie said, rolling her eyes, "they were bred to herd horses; they are that short so they could bite ankles without getting kicked."

"Well that's a promising feature," Patsy stated, sounding suddenly put off.

"No, mum, she'll love it! This is the best idea you've had!"

Patsy grumbled something about it being the worst idea before announcing that she was going to take a shower. Ellie gleefully began to search for nearby breeders.

The next day, Patsy said something about work and Ellie called in sick for school and they went and got a puppy.

Ellie had found a breeder in London and after a lengthy discussion about how they were going to keep the secret, the two found themselves trying to coax a small, wriggling fluff ball into the dog carrier they brought. The puppy cost enough to make Patsy physically cringe, but she said nothing about it as Ellie played with it through the holes in the door, the small puppy nipping at her fingers. They bought a six week old female.

"Mum, she is SO cute!" Ellie squealed for the thousandth time.

Patsy allowed herself a soft smile. Despite herself, she also found the small creature adorable.

The puppy gave a small whine and Ellie cooed in response.


	23. A Present to Remember

Delia came home the next day, Patsy giving her assistance as they walked up the steps and entered the flat. Delia was back in her sweats and T-shirt, and she held her bag of prescription pain-killers in one hand while the other gripped Patsy's forearm as they floated into the living room.

"There you are," Patsy said, helping lower Delia down onto the couch.

"I'm not your patient," Delia chided, shooting Patsy a smile.

Smiling back, Patsy pecked Delia on the cheek before taking her painkillers.

"I'll put these away," Patsy said briskly, sweeping from the room, leaving a bewildered Delia to stare after her.

Entering the kitchen, Patsy saw Ellie place a tall-sided box on the counter before tiredly reaching for some tissue paper.

"How was puppy duty?" Patsy asked with a smirk at Ellie's worn face.

"I had to play with her for two hours!" Ellie whispered, gesturing to the box. Patsy looked over the edge and saw the puppy passed out, in a deep sleep at the bottom.

Swiftly, the two placed a light layer of tissue paper over the dog before Ellie gently lifted it and gestured for her mum to go.

They re-entered the living room to see Delia looking around dazedly, having taken a few painkillers on the car ride home. At the sight of the box, her eyes narrowed and she suddenly looked suspicious.

"What is this?" Delia demanded as her daughter placed it on her lap and Patsy sat next to her.

"Open it!" Ellie said, a grin spreading across her face. Delia turned to Patsy.

"Pats…" the brunette said reproachfully. Patsy gave her wife a shy, yet reassuring smile.

Looking distrustful, Delia turned to the box and delicately removed the tissue paper.

"Oh my God," Delia whispered hoarsely, "Pats…this…this is a DOG."

"Mmhmm," Patsy said.

The brunette simply stared down at the corgi's slumbering form, shock on her face.

She then burst into tears.

"Deels?!" Patsy asked, alarmed as her wife turned and buried her face in Patsy's shoulder.

"It's...s-so…adorable!" she blubbered.

"Oh my God, mam," Ellie snorted, trying to hold in her laugh.

Patsy glared at her daughter as she tried to calm Delia.

"Here," Patsy said, taking the box before gently lifting the puppy's limp form and placing it in Delia's arms.

The brunette only cried harder.

"I-I get t-to keep it?!" Delia bawled.

It was at this point Patsy realized that giving Delia a puppy after she took two Vicodin probably wasn't the best idea.

"Yes, it's yours," Patsy said, allowing herself a smile.

To Patsy's horror, Delia began to croon in Welsh to the puppy, who cracked a bleary eye up at its new owner. This prompted a child-like giggle from Delia as she wiped the tears from her face.

Despite Patsy's previous thoughts on dogs, the puppy quickly became a new member of the family.

Patsy and Delia lay on their bed, the puppy between them as Delia lazily played with it, rubbing its belly as it nipped at her fingers. Every once in a while, it would release a small bark, eliciting a giggle from Delia. Two days had passed since they presented the puppy to her, and it had developed a habit of waddling after Delia as the brunette walked around the house. To Patsy's amazement, Delia really did have a knack for dogs; she had already gotten the puppy semi-house trained and had started teaching it commands…in Welsh. When Patsy had questioned her, she said that the dog was a Welsh breed, and God forbid it forget its heritage. Patsy highly doubted that the dog really cared that much about its genealogy; and in fact considered bringing up the fact that it was allegedly bred to herd horses, and they were not using the dog to do such a thing. But Patsy also knew that Delia's answer would be the brunette calling her out on the carpet, and be along the lines of 'Well, then buy me a horse, Patience!', which Patsy was of course not willing to do, even for love.

Watching her wife and the puppy amusedly, Patsy asked softly, "Have you thought of a name?"

Delia's lips puckered as her brow furrowed with a frown.

"No," the Welshwoman said after a pause, "I need to know her personality first."

"So, 'Miss Barks-A-Lot'," Patsy said candidly.

Delia, taken aback by this rare form of humor, tried desperately to control her laughter.

"Just imagine," she giggled, "Shouting that in a dog park!"

Patsy smirked before saying, "People would think you were insane." As she said this, she reached down and tickled the puppy's belly. The corgi turned its head to look at her, its tongue lolling out as it panted excitedly.


	24. A Necessary Conversation

Ellie was having a crisis.

Okay, maybe 'crisis' was a bit dramatic, but it sure as hell felt that way.

She lay down on her bed sideways, feet dangling off the edge as she gazed thoughtfully up at the ceiling. She had gone to her room to do homework, but she found it hard to concentrate.

Ellie finally decided that she needed a second opinion, and who better to ask than her Welsh mother?

Ellie easily located her mam, who was in the living room reading a book, her dog, Fanw, nestled next to her on the couch. At Ellie's appearance at the doorway, the dog looked up and wagged its tail stub (more so its rear end). She had reached the age of a young adolescent dog, and now she looked like an awkwardly gangly Welsh corgi, her legs longer than she was used to.

In the months following Delia's surgery, Ellie's mam had walked Fanw every day, socializing it with people in the streets and training it in the dog park, teaching it Welsh commands. When the temperature began to plummet, Delia continued the training in their home.

Ellie entered the living room and sat down in her mum's usual recliner.

"Hey Mam?" she asked.

"Yes, cariad?" Delia responded, not looking up from her book.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it, sweetie?" Delia prompted patiently, still skimming her book, but letting Ellie know she was also listening.

"What would…what would you say, if I told you… hypothetically…that a boy asked me to go to the movies with him?"

Delia's eyebrows pulled together in concentration as she comically appeared to seriously mull this over.

"Hypothetically?" Delia clarified.

"…Yes," Ellie said. Silence stretched as the brunette's face screwed up in thought.

"Wear a condom."

Ellie gave a start, not believing what her mam just nonchalantly said.

"…What?" Ellie sputtered.

"Wear a condom," Delia repeated airily, returning to her book.

"But it's the movies, that doesn't mean that we-" Ellie began, only to be cut off by her mam's dry laugh.

"Ellie, you have no idea how many women I've had to tell that they're pregnant, and they would always say, 'but at first it was only supposed to be dinner!'" Delia interrupted, turning the page of her book while adding, "Believe me, I was your age once…things often happen spontaneously, and you often don't think about the consequences just then."

Ellie was quiet as she considered her mam's words.

"So…so you wouldn't be mad?" Ellie asked softly.

"Mad? If you didn't wear a condom, yes, I would be mad."

Ellie's face flushed red before she stammered, "No, I meant…you wouldn't be mad…even if…you know…"

"I wouldn't be mad if wha-" Delia suddenly broke off and looked up from her book for the first time, looking taken aback. The brunette slowly closed her novella before placing it on the arm of the couch so she could look at her daughter full on. Ellie squirmed, embarrassed under her gaze. Her mam was, if anything, very observant and socially deductive.

"Ellie," Delia began softly, "are you afraid that your mum or I would be angry with you because you wish to go out with a BOY?" Ellie opened her mouth and then shut it again, because she didn't want to insult her mam any further, but her Welsh mother had hit the nail on its head.

At her silence, Delia's face fell.

"Sweetie," Delia whispered, "after everything your mum and I have been through, why would you think that?"

"I don' know," Ellie mumbled at her feet. Delia sighed heavily before standing up and gesturing for her daughter to follow her into the kitchen.

Bewildered, Ellie treaded after her, Fanw merrily tripping over her over-sized paws as she followed them.

Delia filled a kettle and began to set out tea things, her back to Ellie. Cautiously, Ellie sat down on a stool.

"I think it's about time I told you a story," Delia said softly, in a forlorn tone. Her daughter held her breath, unsure of what was about to come out of her mam's mouth.

Delia gently placed the kettle on the stove, her expression reverent and thoughtful.

"It's not my story, really, but I believe you should know it," Delia began, looking at her hands, "You see, fifteen years ago, a young woman fell in love with another woman. She had no family other than her estranged father, who sent her Christmas cards and designer scarves for her birthday."

Delia took a deep breath as Ellie began to realize who she was talking about.

"This woman started dating the other woman, and for a while no one knew. Not even her flat mate. Her girlfriend wanted desperately for her to come out, so that they wouldn't have to slink around and constantly watch over their backs, but this woman was terrified of a certain someone finding out; her father. She always told her girlfriend that it was nothing, that she didn't care for her father, but they both knew she did, deep down. A few months after they started dating, they got drunk one night and their flat mate caught them together. The cat was out of the bag. But the couple soon realized that no one cared; or rather they got careless, as the woman would put it."

Delia began to pour the tea, her hands trembling slightly as the steam rose up in tendrils in the chilled air. She pushed a tea cup at Ellie, and the young woman warily took it as her mam took a shaky sip of hers'. Delia swallowed her mouthful before continuing in a trembling voice.

"They were dating for around two years, and the woman had met her girlfriend's parents', who were conservative but still supported their daughter and her partner. This…gave the woman the illusion that her father might be just as acceptable towards her; maybe even make him more interested in her life maybe. So one day, the woman packed an expensive bottle of wine and took her girlfriend to meet her father."

Delia knitted her fingers together and stared at them, fidgeting slightly. Ellie swallowed.

"They didn't last fifteen minutes," Delia whispered hoarsely, blinking away tears, "They entered the mansion, a house she hadn't been in for ten years, and she said, 'Hello father, this is my girlfriend'…"

Delia broke off and appeared to try and collect her thoughts for a moment.

"…and her father stared at her, and the woman just stared back. Her girlfriend couldn't say anything, she didn't know this man from Adam. And then he just…he hit her, slapped her across the face. She dropped the wine bottle and it shattered over the floor. Her girlfriend grabbed her, tried to pull her back from her father, but she just stood there in shock. The father said, 'Don't you come anywhere near me, you filthy THING, get the hell out of my house'…"

Delia bent down and buried her face in her hands before mumbling, "I finally got her out of the house…she didn't cry until we had gotten back to campus…She sent him Christmas cards every year, on his birthday, but he never made contact again." For a silent moment Delia didn't move her head and Ellie gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Ellie whispered softly.

Delia released a sigh before straightening and giving her daughter a calculative gaze.

"Your mum and I literally went through hell to be together, Ellie," she said calmly, "and I'll go through it again before you have to experience it. I don't care who you date, and I can assure you your mum wouldn't give a damn either."

Ellie smiled ruefully at her mam.

"Okay, Mam," she said, jumping down and helping Delia put away the tea things. Ellie went to return to her room, when Delia called after her.

"Ellie, honey," Delia said, "This…hypothetical boyfriend…"

Ellie blushed, "…Yeah?"

"Is he…hypothetically nice?"

Ellie smiled, before saying, "Yes, he is. He is also hypothetically cute."

"He sounds unreal," Delia said with a smirk.

"Of course he does," Ellie bantered back with a wide smile, turning to climb up the stairs.

"Oh, and cariad?"

Ellie paused and looked back at her mam questionably.

"Yes, mam?"

"Make SURE you wear one of those hypothetical condoms I put in your closet on the top shelf when you go on this hypothetical date," Delia said deadpan before sweeping out of the room with her dog bounding after her, leaving Ellie gaping on the stairwell.

Shaking off the shock, Ellie ran up the stairs and dashed into her room before ripping open her closet. Stepping on a luggage bag she used for football tournaments, Ellie rose up and groped along the top shelf, until her fingers brushed across a slender, dusty box in the back. Snatching it with a grunt, Ellie coughed as dust cascaded over her as she beheld just what her mam had told her was on the top shelf of her closet; a box of two dozen Trojan condoms.

Wow, how did she not notice that.

"MAM, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"


	25. Growing Up

Ellie was in trouble.

Not the kind of trouble with one's parents, like, 'oh, you did something bad, you're grounded', but the kind of trouble where one was in a situation where something wrong happened, and one was in trouble.

She knew this the instant her friends pulled up to a house with a crowd of people there she normally didn't hang out with.

"Don't worry about it," they had said, partially dragging her into the flat with pulsating music and alcohol being passed around.

She bit her lip and followed them further into the house, not wanting to dampen their moods as they drank freely. These were a relatively new group of friends that she had met through football, and she wanted to let them know she was truly one of them.

Ellie didn't say anything when the group sat her down on a plush couch and handed her a joint.

"Hit it," they said, almost daring her to refuse, "Hit the blunt, El." And she did, visualizing her mum when she smoked her cigarettes.

She emerged coughing after the acrid smoke seared down her throat and her friends shouted their approval, mocking her slightly for coughing like a lightweight.

"Now finish it," they said.

She truly didn't want to. She didn't like the smell, didn't like the feeling of smoke suffocating her as it burned the back of her throat.

But she did.

And as she sat there, stoned out of her mind, she numbly came to the conclusion that she was in a huge heaping pile of trouble as this much older boy sat a little too close to her.

Patsy and Delia had agreed to let Ellie go to a friend's house for the weekend, and were determined to take full advantage of their daughter's absence.

In fact, the moment the door slammed shut, they cracked open a bottle of whiskey and made out on the couch, taking things slow. When they ran out of the liquor, Patsy forlornly shook the empty bottle before sitting up on the couch, her hair astray and her clothes rumpled.

"Go get another bottle, cariad," Delia chuckled, "I'll meet you in bed." Patsy watched, wide-eyed as the brunette flirtatiously stood and removed her shirt, letting it fall to the floor. In her bra, Delia began to walk towards their room before pausing to shimmy off her sweatpants, now clad in only a racy thong and her bra. The brunette disappeared into their bedroom before Patsy leapt up and hastily rummaged around before coming across another bottle and dashing towards the door.

Throwing it open, Patsy's jaw dropped at the sight of Delia in nothing but her own, long flannel shirt, the arms much too long, and the end of it stopping at the middle of her thighs. Without any more prompting, Patsy leapt up on the bed and straddled Delia, while placing the fresh bottle on the nightstand.

"Pats," Delia chastised, "You are wearing far too many clothes."

Patsy leaned down eagerly for a hasty kiss as she ripped off her shirt and Delia giggled beneath her.

Ellie looked down at her knee as her mind perceived a hand, one that was not hers, end up there. With glassy eyes, she followed the appendage up until she came face-to-face with the man next to her.

The guy began to inch his hand up the inside of her thigh.

"Do you like that?" he breathed heavily in her ear.

To be quite frank, no, she did not. Ellie managed to somehow manipulate her numb, tingling limbs away from the guy.

"I've…gotta get some air," she said thickly, looking down to place her hands on the couch and push herself up. The man did not chase her, but seemed mildly perplexed as she hobbled out of the bustling room. Ellie had a hard time realizing what she was doing, not being familiar with the house and also being higher than a kite. She kept on having to remind herself to put one foot in front of the other, and to keep her mind on the task at hand. Reaching the porch, Ellie stepped out into the chill of the air.

Feeling along the rail, she stepped down onto the lawn, away from grappling couples and nosy partygoers.

She was in trouble.

For a second she thought she lost her phone, her hands roaming over her pockets until she came across it in her purse, which she was mildly surprised about. Fishing it out, she concentrated on making her fingers do the precise movements to unlock her phone, before she ran into a conundrum.

There was no way she was getting out of this unscathed.

She could return to the party, get groped again, and get completely black-out drunk. Or, she could call her mum, get out of this situation, but also risk eternal damnation and not being able to see the light of day again.

She chose to be with the people she knew loved her most.

"Damn," Patsy mumbled, reaching over and shaking the bottle experimentally. Delia lay on her stomach, the brunette looking up as Patsy cursed the lack of liquor around their house.

"Don't we have some scotch?" Delia slurred.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Patsy questioned in mild awe, gazing down at the Welshwoman as the brunette's eyes fluttered closed momentarily.

Delia released a very unladylike belch before growling mutinously, "Never."

"I can't believe you kiss me with that mouth," Patsy said sarcastically.

"Watch what you say, Patience," Delia said, cracking an eyelid open, "Or I'll be very particular about WHERE I kiss with this mouth."

Chuckling heartedly, Patsy reached down and pulled Delia up so as to kiss her passionately.

"In which case," Patsy muttered between kisses, "I will go get…more alcohol."

The ginger rose up, completely nude, before opening the door and trailing down the hall, an equally nude Delia grinning sheepishly after her. Patsy did in fact find an acceptable bottle of scotch, in which she brought back to the room before placing it on the nightstand and breaking the seal of its neck. She went to pour it when her phone started vibrating.

Patsy was about to disgustedly reject it when she saw the caller ID.

Picking it up, Delia frowned from beside her.

"Who is it?" Delia asked.

"Ellie. She probably forgot something," Patsy said, sliding the bar over and raising the phone to her ear.

"Hi, mum?" Ellie asked, fighting off the mounting panic as her disjointed mind tried to focus on her conversation.

'Do NOT sound high, do NOT sound high,' she thought to herself determinedly.

"Yes?"

"I…uh…I need help," Ellie said, having to really concentrate on forming the words in her mouth.

"Why? What's wrong?" Patsy's voice didn't change, though she did hear the strange lilt in Ellie's tone and decided that it was a good time to get away from Delia. She had travelled back into the kitchen right after Ellie had asked for help, and Delia was no longer privy to the conversation.

There was an extended pause on the phone.

Ellie was beginning to realize just how much shit she was in. And she was scared.

"Mum," she whispered hoarsely, "I…I'm sorry…I'm not at Nicole's house, I'm at a party, and I really, really need to leave…I'm a little fucked up, and I can't…I don't know what to do."

Patsy was quiet as she digested this.

"Gosh," Patsy said, fully meaning the word, "Okay…where are you at?"

"Jonathan's house…I think. I'm not for sure, I wasn't paying attention when we showed up."

"I'll be there as quick as I can. Stay outside, and don't do anything stupid…again," Patsy sighed, reaching for her discarded clothes.

"…hey mum," Ellie whispered, eyeing the darkness around her.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for this," Ellie said, sitting down on the grass, "but I think it would be best if you hurry."

"What the hell are you doing?" Delia demanded, watching as Patsy tugged on some jeans and fished around for a shirt.

"I…uh…Ellie forgot her…toothbrush!" Patsy said brightly, "I'm just going to run it over to her."

Delia's expression became one of disbelief.

"You are going to give our 17 year old daughter her toothbrush at 10:30 at night?" Delia said sardonically, making the situation sound just as invalid as it truly was.

"Yes, I am," Patsy insisted, "She kisses boys, remember?"

Delia smiled at this, but whined, "But…Pats!"

"I won't be long, Deels," Patsy said, bending over to give Delia a frustrated, passionate kiss. The ginger made for the door, shouting over her shoulder, "Don't drink all that scotch!"

She went to pick up her keys when she glanced over at the dog bed and noticed Fanw.

The corgi looked up and wagged her tail stub merrily at Patsy.

"Go watch her," Patsy sighed, knowing full and well that the dog didn't understand a thing she said.

Ellie was getting attacked by a moth.

She was trying to skirt around the house to get to the front and wait for her mum, when she received a frontal assault that left her reeling into the bushes. It took her a moment to spot her enemy, circling around for another attack.

"Oh, no," Ellie cried, "Please, what did I do to you?!" She closed her eyes tightly, awaiting complete annihilation while plucking up the courage to run the rest of the way to the front lawn.

She made a mad dash for it, the ground alien and uneven before she tripped over a drainage pipe and fell onto the ground with an "Oof!"

Ellie lay there, mumbling, "Man down, Man down," and thinking about how her attempted escape possibly deserved her a Distinguished Service Cross.

She heard heavy footfalls before a sudden presence appeared by her.

Oh dear, was she dead?!

"Ellie?! What on earth, are you okay?!"

"MUM!" Ellie exclaimed, eyes snapping open as she lurched up and grasped her mum's forearms.

"Oh my God, I'm alive! Oh, shit, Mum, we've gotta go, there's a moth, I-"

Ellie broke off when she registered the look on her mum's face, who was gazing back at her daughter as if Ellie had seriously gone off the deep end.

"Here," Patsy said, helping her daughter to her feet, "Let's go."

"I'm sorry," Ellie repeated again as she nervously watched her mother, the streetlamps lighting up the older woman's face periodically with orange light.

Patsy released a huff, and appeared to be trying to figure out what to say.

"Ellie, I don't even know where to begin," Patsy said sadly, "you lied to me and your mam, you went to an underage party, and you just reek of pot!"

"I'm sorry," Ellie said again, not knowing what else to say.

There was a pause before Patsy added in a softer tone, "I'm just glad you had enough sense to call me when you did…Ellie, something really bad could have happened to you! That's why we don't want you going to these parties!"

"I know," Ellie said darkly.

The car descended into silence, Patsy not mentioning Ellie's dark tone.

It really surprised Ellie, then, when Patsy pulled up to a fish and chips vendor and looked at her daughter expectantly.

"Huh?" Ellie blurted.

"Hurry, tell me what you want, I left your mam home with a bottle of scotch," Patsy said.

They ordered three meals and soon were in their driveway, picking at their food.

"Do you realize how much trouble you are in?" Patsy finally huffed.

"Yes," Ellie said nervously.

"And that tomorrow you are going to have to explain to your mam why I had to pick you up from a party tonight?"

"Mum!" Ellie whispered in horror. That was punishment within itself.

Patsy gazed sadly on her daughter.

"I mean it, Ellie," Patsy sighed, "Now go finish this and get to bed."

"Deels," Patsy murmured, gently pressing open their bedroom door. The hallway light alighted on the bed, showing a heap of bedcovers and a small lapdog curled up next to it. A gentle snore came from the sheets, and the scent of alcohol was heavy in the air.

Fanw looked up and watched Patsy toe into the room, carrying two baskets of fried matter.

"Fanw, that is MY SPOT," Patsy said in mock outrage, "Go get your own lady-friend to sleep with!"

It was safe to say Patsy was still slightly under the influence.

The corgi only seemed to react to the sound of her name, bounding up and coming to the foot of the bed before curling up and showing her belly.

At Patsy's voice, the snoring stopped and the heap of covers shifted.

"Pats?" Delia slurred.

"Delia, did you drink the rest of that bottle?"

"No, only half," the brunette said, sitting up and fixing Patsy with beaded stare.

"You were gone for a long time," Delia whined.

"I know, I'm sorry," Patsy said earnestly, holding out a basket, "I picked up some dinner."

Delia spared her one more despairing look before taking the olive branch. Pleased, Patsy sat down next to her wife, Fanw curling up between them.

"I thought we discussed no dogs on the bed," Patsy said idly, scratching the corgi behind the ears.

"We did no such thing," Delia sniffed before plopping a chip in her mouth.

"Really? I could've sworn we did," Patsy said with a frown.

"You must've been dreaming it then," Delia said airily, before snatching up one of Patsy's battered fish and impishly stealing it into her mouth.


	26. Birthday Gifts

Patsy sighed heavily as she nestled down on the couch, Fanw stretching out beside her with a very dog-like groan. Delia floated in and spared them a glance before placing her cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table and tapping Patsy's feet. The ginger wordlessly lifted them and the Welshwoman sat down before pulling Patsy's feet onto her lap. The brunette then plucked up the remote and scrolled through the channels, before releasing a soft exclamation.

"Oh, Pats, look!" Delia said merrily, "The new 'Star Wars' movie is on Demand!"

"Hmph," Patsy said, eyes fluttering as she was on the brink of dozing off.

Delia eagerly pressed 'play' before contentedly leaning back, absentmindedly working her thumb into the sole of Patsy's foot.

As the credits began scrolling down, the two heard the tell-tale thudding of their daughter descending the stairs. To their mild surprise, Ellie entered the living room, instead of visiting the kitchen like she normally did while studying for exams.

"Hey, Mam, Mum?" Ellie asked briskly. With a huff, Delia paused the movie.

"Yes?" Delia answered, Patsy mildly listening.

"Can I go to Comic Con next Saturday?" Ellie asked excitedly, "Nicole and I want to dress up as Sarah Jane and Rose from Doctor Who!"

"No, that's you Mam's birthday!" Patsy said, eyes snapping open and sparing Ellie a glare, "That wouldn't be-"

Patsy broke off abruptly as Delia's nail dug painfully into her foot.

"…Actually, what do you think, sweetie?" Patsy asked, an octave high.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind if she went, Comic Con is so much fun," Delia said a little too innocently, "I'm sure we can find something to do with ourselves." Ellie looked from one mother to the other, confused by the intensity of their tones.

"O…kay," Ellie said warily. She glanced at the TV and gave a snort.

"Really, Mam, 'Star Wars'?!" Ellie chuckled.

"Oi! It's better than that 'Doctor Who' you watch!" Delia snapped.

Ellie rolled her eyes and looked at a mildly bewildered Patsy.

"C'mon, mum, can't you agree that 'Doctor Who' is so much better than 'Star Wars'?"

"I…uh…What about 'Star Trek'?" Patsy stammered.

For a moment, both Delia and Ellie turned to look at Patsy as if she had just praised Hitler.

"Are you SERIOUS?!" Delia exclaimed, "'Star Trek'?!"

"Dear God, mum!" Ellie said.

"What?! It's a good show!" Patsy said defensively.

Ellie blinked before chuckling to herself and saying, "Okay, okay…I have to go study." Their daughter trotted back up the stairs and Delia was left staring at Patsy in disgust.

"Well, it is!" Patsy said helplessly.

"I…have no idea what to say to that," Delia managed, looking affronted. The brunette turned back to the TV and pressed 'play'. With a huff, Patsy laid back down and firmly closed her eyes, telling herself that yes, 'Star Trek' was a perfectly good show.

Patsy ambled through the house, switching off lights that Ellie and Delia had left on before going to bed. She had just gotten back from the night shift and it was eleven at night. She went to turn off the office lights but then froze. The computer screen was on, so Patsy stepped forward to examine what was up.

It appeared that Ellie was shopping for 'Doctor Who' merchandise online, and had left up the page to look again the next day. Curious, Patsy aimlessly scrolled down, viewing multiple costumes, all of which appeared very strange to her indeed.

But then a thought came to her.

Giddy, Patsy went up to the search bar and typed, 'Star Trek'.

Patsy leaned forward in surprise.

"Sold-out?!" she exclaimed hoarsely. The ginger then smiled grimly. Ha, 'Star Trek' WAS a good show!

She went to shut it off when she remembered Delia's upcoming birthday and thought, why not try and get her some Star Wars stuff?

Preparing for a long hour of looking through at mugs with references she did not understand, Patsy took on an expression of boredom as she scrolled down the choices, noticing how a lot of the costumes were also sold-out because of Comic Con.

Patsy stopped, her eyes zoning in on a photo.

What. Was. THAT?!

Patsy dry-swallowed before looking over her shoulder hurriedly, paranoid that someone was peering over her shoulder. Of course, no one was there.

The red head nervously clicked on it and stifled her gasp.

She glanced at the price.

Then at the number in stock. Only four units.

Patsy sighed heavily before closing her eyes. She wasn't ACTUALLY considering this, was she?!

Abruptly, the ginger clicked on 'add to my shopping cart' and decided she was going to hell anyway.

Patsy was a nervous wreck for the next few days, posting herself at the door, waiting for that dreaded mail truck to show up with its damning merchandise.

It came on Wednesday.

The ginger had rushed home that day, hoping to beat both her daughter and wife home. She found the box on her stoop, her name on the label, forever blackening her name with the purchase. Patsy looked around before hurriedly picking it up and rushing it into the house. Once inside, she hastily tore it open, terrified of what was in the box.

With trembling hands, she held up a piece of the clothing.

And then she dropped it, realizing Fanw had followed her into the kitchen, sitting and looking expectantly up at her.

Patsy looked desperately at the corgi.

"Don't tell anyone," she pleaded, gathering up the box and rushing it into her bedroom. Looking around wildly, she shoved it on the top shelf of her closet, and prayed no one would notice it.

Somehow, Saturday came about in a rather tame fashion, without any chance discoveries of Patsy's secret purchase. Before Ellie left for Comic Con, she gave her mam a card and a darling jewelry box before giving her a tight hug and a "Happy Birthday." Ellie had also managed to wrestle Fanw into a gray box, apparently making her look like a character called 'K-9', (whatever the hell that was).

When she shut the door, an odd silence fell around the house.

Delia hummed to herself, cleaning the cake dishes that they had just used. Trying desperately not to give herself away, Patsy gently wrapped her arms around Delia from behind before working the soapy plates from Delia's hands.

"The birthday girl is not supposed to work," Patsy said, pressing her lips on Delia's neck.

"Then what am I going to do with myself?" Delia chided playfully, making Patsy nervously swallow.

"Do you want to watch 'Star Wars'?" Patsy mumbled, suddenly lacking confidence. Delia blinked, clearly bewildered by this offer. She expected a flirtatious response, possibly even a pun of birthday suits, followed by a nice bottle of champagne and…well…

"Um…okay…" Delia said slowly, turning to look at her lover.

Patsy licked her lips and stared at her feet as she murmured, trying desperately to sound flirty, "Why don't you go start it, and I make some popcorn?"

She didn't sound flirty, she sounded like she was going to her grave.

'Jesus Christ' she thought, 'Get it together!'

"…alright, cariad," Delia said suspiciously, eyeing her before leaving for the living room. When she was gone, Patsy tip-toed up the stairs, and into their room.

Patsy huffed irritably as she twisted in the mirror for the sixth time, trying to manage a good angle.

"You look good," she muttered, readjusting the top slightly, "She'll love it, you look good."

Patsy's face fell.

Who was she kidding, she looked like a bloody idiot.

The metal-colored swirls that made up the top were very revealing, ending at her nipples. The shoulder straps came up and met at her neck forming a collar, and for the longest time she hadn't the slightest clue of how to put it on. The bottoms were the same color, with a front and back cloth that went down to her mid-thighs, and side barbs that projected out an inch or so.

She had no idea who she was supposed to be, but it better have been Delia's favorite character.

Patsy took a deep breath before marching over to the door and opening it. She had to leave now, before she had a chance to second-guess herself and change out of it. Trailing down the stairs and feeling extremely foolish, Patsy tip-toed into the living room.

Delia faced away from her, aimlessly scrolling through all of the 'Star Wars' movies on Netflix. Patsy stood there, suddenly too frightened to make her presence known.

She almost darted for the stairs.

Almost.

Instead, she gave a slight, choked cough that sounded as if it were coming out of a dying mouse.

Delia turned around, her expression that of mild impatience…

…and then her eyes widened to freakish proportions as her jaw dropped to its maximum extent in shock.

Delia sat there and stared at Patsy long enough for the ginger to back track.

"I'll go change then," Patsy mumbled hotly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Delia then seemed to find her voice.

"Pats!" she squeaked, her voice several octaves high.

The ginger stopped and gazed at the Welshwoman reproachfully.

"…you…you look…" Delia stammered hoarsely.

"Like a fucking idiot," Patsy bit back, staring at her feet and scowling at them.

"No!" Delia finally managed, realizing how vulnerable Patsy had just made herself, "Patsy, you look…Jesus… you are so damn HOT."

Patsy looked up and found Delia's gaze ravishing over her body.

"What?" Patsy whispered, not believing her ears.

"Pats…I…Oh my God…" Delia whimpered before staggering up and staring at Patsy in shock, "You are so fucking sexy."

"You…you like it?" Patsy asked, suddenly shy and bashful.

"'Do I like it?'?!" Delia echoed, approaching Patsy until her wide, shining eyes were staring at her in wonder, "Patsy, I LOVE it!"

Patsy warily smiled before saying timidly, "Happy birthday?"

Delia chuckled before dropping her voice huskily and breathing, "Patsy, do you know how beautiful you are? This is the best birthday present I have ever gotten."

At this Patsy snorted, "Well, hold on, what about that coffee machine I got you two years ago?!"

"I will take you any day," Delia smirked before glancing at Patsy from head to toe and licking her lips.

"You okay?" Patsy jibed light-heartedly.

What she was not expecting was her wife to briskly shake her head before reaching up and pulling Patsy's head down for a fiery, passionate kiss. Still in shock, Patsy was numbly tugged back to the couch, before she was thrown down on it and Delia pounced on her, her lips travelling down to her neck and chest as her fingers explored the costume. Out of all the ways she envisioned this unfolding, Delia going down on her was not a part of it.

"Oh my God, you are so fucking hot," Delia muttered heatedly as Patsy released a strangled gasp, the brunette dipping her mouth to suck on a pulse point on her neck.

"Do you even know who you're supposed to be?" Delia chuckled as the ginger helped her remove her shirt.

"A princess, right?" Patsy panted, drawing a shaky, husky laugh from the other.

"Yes, you're a princess alright," Delia said in a low tone, as she did that THING with her eyes. Patsy gulped.

Quirking a smile, the brunette began to trail kisses down Patsy's abdomen, her hands exploring the ginger's waistband as the other squirmed beneath her.

Suddenly Delia froze, her mouth only inches from where it was destined to be.

Patsy, whose cheeks were flushed as she panted with wont, gazed down at Delia in mild confusion.

"…Pats?" Delia asked slowly in a lilting tone.

"Yes?" Patsy asked dubiously.

"Did…did this come with a light saber?"


	27. Making a House a Home (Part I)

An early Saturday in March found the Busby-Mount residence blearily waking up from a long week. Patsy and Delia wandered out of bed at around eight, which was 'sleeping in' for them. They began to make breakfast, speaking in soft tones as Delia made coffee and Patsy set out a pan to make some eggs and bacon. The morning was foggy, and it was forecasted to be drizzly all day. Delia switched on the news in the living room, allowing some background noise to drift into the kitchen before she began to help Patsy. As usual, around nine Ellie hobbled down the stairs, rubbing her eyes while wearing her football shorts and a tank top as Fanw waggled after her, nails clicking on the hardwood.

"Mornin'," Ellie yawned, seating herself at the counter, still looking half asleep.

"I swear, you somehow manage to wake up later and later," Patsy said with a smirk, pressing the eggs around the pan.

"Sleep is my best friend," Ellie said with another yawn, before reaching over and pouring a mug of coffee, using the rest of what was left of the pot. Her Welsh mother drained the rest of her own mug before rinsing it out and refilling it with ice water, as she usually did to counteract the beverage's dehydrating tendencies. Placing it on the counter, Delia returned to flipping over the bacon, its heavenly aroma filling the house. The brunette then put the cover back on and began to flip through a magazine that had been left on the counter.

The peaceful quiet was disrupted by Delia's phone buzzing.

Ellie's mam glanced at the caller ID but the number was not recognized. With a frown, Delia went to slide the bar over the answer it.

"Hello, this is Delia Busby-Mount," Ellie whispered mockingly under her breath, her voice lilting like Delia's usual Welsh chirp. Patsy muffled a snicker in her elbow, but both balked when Delia reached into her glass of water and scooped out the ice cubes before flinging it in Ellie's direction. With a soft cry, Ellie went to dive beneath the counter, but the ice caught her in the shoulder like a shot gun blast.

"Ow!" Ellie hissed, though there was mirth on her face.

Patsy snorted before forcing a controlled look over her features.

Sparing them both a glare, Delia turned back to her phone.

"Hello, this is Delia Busby-Mount," Delia said, her voice bright and in stark contrast to what she just did.

Patsy idly stirred the eggs, glancing at her wife, an amused smirk still on her lips. Ellie had commandeered the magazine, listening to her mam on the phone.

"…oh…hi," Delia said in a strange voice, several octaves high.

Delia looked hurriedly at Patsy, a panicked look on her face.

'Who is it?' Patsy mouthed.

"The adoption agency," Delia whispered back. Patsy's face paled and for a moment the two older women turned to stare at their daughter, who looked up, bewildered. Delia turned away, plugging her other ear and shrugging up her shoulders as she wondered into the living room. Patsy flicked off the stove and quickly followed suit, worry etched on her face.

"Yes…no, you're fine…yes, I'm much better, thank you." Delia seemed to subconsciously brush her fingers along her the left side of her chest, remembering the breast cancer she was cured of. The other person on the phone seemed to be giving quite the monologue, in which Delia quickly straightened and a dumbfounded look came over her.

"Oh! Well I… I'm sure we can figure out something… Of course I will."

Delia turned and placed a hand on her hip, her brow furrowed with concentration as Ellie and Fanw soon entered the room.

"That's terrible…no, I understand, mmhmm. Yes. I'll call you back once I've discussed it with them. No problem. Bye-Bye."

Delia hung up and saw Patsy and Ellie staring at her expectantly.

"Well?" Patsy nearly exploded.

"That was Heather Randle, the social worker who inspected our house," Delia said slowly, "She was calling because they've got a three year-old boy who was just admitted to the hospital for suspected poisoning and physical abuse. They need someone to help transition him for the adoption agency, but they can't use any nearby foster homes because the boy freaks out whenever he sees another man."

Patsy blinked in surprise.

"They want us to take him in?" Patsy exclaimed.

"Only until they can get someone more suitable…they want to put him in a stable place as soon as possible," Delia explained, "…that is, if we agree to it."

"I…well…we're aren't exactly financially ready for something like this," Patsy pointed out, "and we don't know how long this will last." Delia was already shaking her head.

"She said that they would cover the necessaries, as long as we collected receipts."

Patsy gave pause, biting her lip.

"We still have that crib, in the storage unit…" Patsy began slowly. Delia's face brightened up like a sun. Ellie raised her eyebrows.

"So you're going to adopt a kid, just like that?" Ellie asked in disbelief.

"We are not adopting, we are acting as a foster home for him, until he can be rehabilitated and transferred into the adoption agency," Delia said, returning to her phone to dial the number.

"So, technically I'm getting a sibling?" Ellie continued.

"Technically," Patsy said, allowing a soft smile touch her lips, "A temporary one."

"I've gotta go tell Nicole!" Ellie said excitedly, bounding up the stairs.

"She said that he needs to be observed for a few more days at hospital; they found antifreeze in his system," Delia narrated as Patsy drove to said hospital.

"Why would someone do that to a kid?" Ellie asked hotly from the back. Patsy and Delia shared a sorrowful look with each other, remembering the condition that Ellie was in before they adopted her.

"I don't know," Patsy said softly.

The family of three were ushered into the children's ward and soon came across a familiar face. Heather Randle had aged quite a lot and at the moment looked exceedingly harassed as she trotted towards them, a police officer leaning up against the wall beside her.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come, I know it's terribly inconvenient and short notice," the social worker said breathlessly, shaking their hands. She paused at Ellie and gazed inquiringly at her.

"My, you've grown," Heather said, "How old are you now?"

"Seventeen," Ellie said promptly.

"Time flies, doesn't it?" Patsy said with a soft smile.

"Indeed," Heather said absently before turning to the brunette.

"I am sorry to hear about that," she said, turning and leading them further down the hall, "How long have you been cured?"

"Almost a year now," Delia said with a reassuring smile.

"Congratulations," Heather said, pausing at a door.

"You can go see him…just be mindful that he is disoriented and might not react very well to strangers," Heather said, wringing her hands.

The three glanced at each other before Delia took the lead, followed by Patsy and then Ellie.

The hospital room was dim, the shades drawn closed and for a moment the family was flung back during that terrible time with Delia's surgery.

Shuffling in further, Delia's eyes landed on a nurse who was leaning over a crib, multiple machines surrounding the bed.

"He's asleep," the nurse explained, pulling back, "C'mon."

The three crowded over the crib.

The boy was small, his dark skin clashing with the whites of his hospital clothes. He breathed deeply, one hand heavily plastered as it held host to dozens of tubes and wires while the other was in a pure white cast, indicating a broken arm. His lips twitched and his eyes fluttered, oblivious to the small crowd around him.

"How long does he need to be here?" Delia murmured softly to the nurse.

"The doctors are saying about three days to clean his system and get some the bruising healed up," the woman whispered back.

Delia reached down and brushed a forefinger along his clenched fist and observed the resulting twitch in awe.

Patsy discreetly grasped Delia's hand and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles.

"Who would do this?" Delia whispered softly.

Patsy pressed her lips on Delia's temple and murmured, "I don't know."


	28. Making a House a Home (Part II)

Patsy shoved the garage door open with a grunt. She didn't remember the last time she had come here, and it appeared the hinges had rusted slightly. The door rose up completely and the ginger flicked the light on, her eyes scanning over piles of boxes from before their move to their current flat.

"Jeez, mum, look at this stuff," Ellie said, shifting through some of it.

"Look for the crib," Patsy said, trying to redirect her daughter's attention to the task at hand. Delia had stayed at the hospital with the boy, whose name was Trevon.

"What's this?" Ellie asked in a suspicious tone, holding up a dusty off-white photo album. The ginger's jaw dropped as she completely forgot about the crib and stepped forward and yanked the album out of Ellie's hands.

"I'd forgotten about this," Patsy murmured softly, opening it and flicking through it.

"But what IS it?" Ellie demanded, peering over Patsy's shoulder.

"Our wedding pictures."

*Flashback*

Patsy fidgeted as Trixie ran a brush through her hair.

"Oh, will you stop?" the blonde asked hotly.

"Sorry," Patsy mumbled.

For the umpteenth time, Patsy glanced at her phone but it showed no new notifications.

"Patsy, she's fine, she made it to her hair appointment alright," Trixie chortled, "I literally walked in there with her."

Patsy nodded, resulting in Trixie's hands holding her head still forcefully. A sheepish smile touched the ginger's lips.

"I swear, I've never seen you this jumpy," Trixie chortled, resuming her brushing.

"You would be too," Patsy snapped defensively, drawing a laugh from the other.

Patsy sighed and began to pluck at the button down shirt she was wearing to make for an easy way to get dressed. She heard the door open and glanced into the mirror to see Barbara slipping into the room… as gracefully as a seven-month pregnant woman could.

"Oh, Babs, please tell me you have the picture," Trixie said.

The other woman flashed Patsy a smile in the mirror before bringing up a photo and showing it to the blonde.

"Oh, YES," Trixie purred, running her fingers through Patsy's hair with relish, "Patsy, you are going to look so good with that up-do."

"Let me see," Patsy begged for the thousandth time, though Trixie vigorously shook her head no.

"Nope, it's supposed to be a surprise."

"I swear, if you make me look ridiculous…" Patsy began reproachfully.

"Pats! You are going to look nothing but sexy!" Trixie said, offended.

The ginger huffed and slunk down in her chair.

"Wedding nerves?" Barbara asked sympathetically. Patsy spared the woman a glare.

"Ooh, Barbara, take some pictures so we won't forget how anxious our lovely Patsy is right now!" Trixie squealed delightfully, plugging in a hair curler. Despite Patsy's yells of protest, Barbara discreetly snapped some pics.

"You…you wore a tux?" Ellie asked in shock, flicking through the album as Patsy rummaged around for the crib.

"Yes, I did," Patsy responded, almost defensively, "Why?"

"Nothing, I just… That's gutsy, I like it," Ellie said hurriedly. Patsy eyed her warily before returning to her search.

*Flash Back*

"You…I just…oh, Pats," Trixie murmured softly, as Patsy emerged from the bathroom, tucking her dress shirt into her pants.

"Does it look okay?" Patsy fretted, reaching for her tie with trembling hands.

"You look gorgeous, Patsy, stop worrying about it," Trixie gushed, taking the tie and wrapping it around her friend's popped collar.

"She's going to love it," Barbara soothed before glancing at her phone.

"How much longer do we have?" Patsy demanded shrilly.

"An hour and a half, do calm down," Trixie chortled, tying the tie and pushing it snugly against Patsy's throat, "There you go."

"Okay, okay…erm…jacket," Patsy muttered, turning around and plucking the garment off the clothes rack.

She swept it on smoothly before straightening it while Trixie and Barbara shared a knowing look.

"Now all we need is theme music and you'd be playing James Bond," Trixie approved, smoothing down the back of Patsy's collar.

Patsy didn't respond, an anxious look coming over her.

Just then a soft knock echoed in the room and all three women jumped. Barbara answered the door.

"Oh, Mrs. Busby!" Barbara exclaimed, opening the door wider, "It's good to see you! Patsy is jumping out of her skin waiting for an update."

The ginger turned and the room grew tense as the older woman and she held each other's gaze.

Mrs. Busby's eyes trailed over Patsy's attire before she seemed to approve of it with a sniff.

"Delia is dressed and they are doing some last minute touches on her makeup," Mrs. Busby said, referring to the group of Welsh women who had adamantly insisted on helping their fellow relative get prepared for her wedding.

Patsy found herself both sighing a breath of relief and tensing up as the clock ticked closer to show time.

The older woman shuffled her feet and glanced down at a small box in her hands. After a moment, she looked up and extended it towards the ginger as the other two women backed up, realizing that this was between the future in-laws.

"Cariad," Mrs. Busby said meaningfully, having never referred to Patsy as that, "Delia's father told me what you chose to wear, and showed me a picture of it when you two picked it out." (Indeed, Mr. Busby was a huge teddy bear who openly doted on his daughter and her lesbian lover. At the chance to assist Patsy and bond with his future daughter-in-law, he had eagerly agreed to take her to a formal tux place and pick out the fabrics and deal with any condescending remarks towards the ginger).

"We wanted to get you a little wedding present that you could use, and…well…we purchased these to go with your outfit."

Eyeing Mrs. Busby carefully, Patsy accepted the box and cracked it open.

Inside were a pair of cufflinks, made of gold with glistening emeralds set in the middle.

Patsy felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mrs. Busby, I…thank you so much, you shouldn't have," Patsy whispered hoarsely. Mrs. Busby nodded, accepting Patsy's words as an appropriate thank you.

"Take care of my daughter, cariad," she said in a low tone.

"Always," Patsy breathed.

"Aw, you two look so cute together!" Ellie squealed gleefully. Patsy paused to glance over at her daughter, who leaned over the album, the book inches from her nose.

"Mum…were you…did you CRY?!" Ellie demanded as she flipped the page over and gaped at a photo.

"Give me that!" Patsy snapped.

Before Patsy knew it, she stood before the aisle, her mind going blank as her mouth ran dry.

The church was packed.

The ginger jerked when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Looking down, her eyes met with Sister Julienne's, who gazed at her serenely.

"Are you ready, Ms. Mount?" the nun asked softly.

"Of course, Sister," Patsy said with a watery smile, offering her elbow towards the nun. Sister Julienne took it and the music started, causing everyone to jump to their feet as Sister Julienne escorted Patsy to the altar.

"I was shaking so bad," Patsy commented, sitting on a box as Ellie turned the page.

Ellie snorted, her fingers brushing over the pictures reverently.

*Flash Back*

Patsy's heart leapt in her throat when the bridal march started again.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she exhaled through her nose slowly, trying to calm herself. She heard the coos and the soft exclamations, and she had to fight with every part of her being to not turn around.

She glanced at Trixie, who appeared dumbstruck.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and twisted around.

"Mam looks so pretty in that dress," Ellie commented idly, pointing at a picture.

"She was stunning," Patsy said indignantly.

Patsy's heart stopped beating.

For a moment she thought she had died and gone to heaven.

Delia looked radiant, happiness oozing off of her in waves as she smiled softly at relatives in the crowd. The dress was absolutely elegant, clinging to her form and without straps, showing off the brunette's striking shoulders. The brunette walked in step with a beaming, red-faced father, who seemed bursting with pride as he escorted her towards the altar. She held a bouquet of white lilies and roses and through her veil, she spotted Patsy looking at her.

Her smile widened, growing across her face as her dimples deepened on her cheeks.

When Patsy managed to breathe again, it was when Delia drew up beside her when the organ stopped, and the brunette handed her bouquet to Barbara beside her. Delia then turned to Patsy expectantly, and with trembling hands the ginger reverently lifted up her veil.

Delia clasped the others hands and squeezed tightly.

"Well hello," Patsy whispered hoarsely.

"Hello," Delia murmured back, eyes shining.

"Oh, mum, you were crying," Ellie cooed in a gentler tone than before.

"I always cry at weddings," Patsy sniffed.

*Flash Back*

Patsy didn't know when, but she felt wetness on her cheeks as she stared down at Delia, her beautiful, radiant Delia.

The vicar was speaking, but all Patsy was focused on was how Delia reassuringly rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. She let the tears fall, because she didn't want to ruin the perfection of this moment.

They said their vows in shy voices, Patsy's grip on Delia's hands getting tighter and tighter as the ceremony went on. Trixie stepped forward to hand off the ring, in which Patsy numbly slipped it on Delia's ring finger.

"Please repeat after me: With this ring…"

"Where was the reception?" Ellie asked, getting to that part of the album.

"At that fancy castle-like building," Patsy said vaguely, moving some boxes around.

Ellie's jaw dropped.

"You booked the WHITE CASTLE?!"

Patsy released a shaky laugh as the car pulled up to the venue, her hands holding Delia flush against her body in the backseat.

"You are so beautiful," Patsy murmured softly, pulling her in for a kiss, "I could stare at you all day."

"You look quite fetching yourself," Delia said with a low chuckle, loosening Patsy's tie with nimble fingers, "I see my father has good taste in lesbian formal wear."

Delia's humor seemed pointedly directed at getting Patsy to calm down. The ginger was a bag of nerves, and ever since that kiss at the altar, she seemed as if she was walking on sunshine.

Patsy pulled Delia in for another kiss when an irritated rap sounded on the window. Knowing who it was, Patsy fumbled with the door controls and locked it. Moments later the person tried the door.

The person rapped again, but was ignored as Patsy slipped her tongue into Delia's mouth.

"Why are you always so bloody gorgeous?" Patsy moaned.

"For your eyes only, darling," Delia chortled, "But seriously, you are just so damn hot in that tux, Pats." Delia's hands snaked around the ginger's neck and tugged her in for another kiss. The kiss got hotter when Delia somehow managed to hook her leg around Patsy's waist.

"Oh, dear Lord, you two need to come out!" Trixie said, exasperated.

"Fuck off, Trixie," Patsy mumbled into Delia's lips.

"Patsy, if you don't get out now, I am going to tell Delia where you two are honeymooning!"

The ginger broke off the kiss with a noisy smack of the lips and turned to glower at the blonde.

"You wouldn't!" Patsy said in disbelief, her voice muffled by the door.

"I think you know I will!" Trixie threatened.

With a grunt, Patsy unlocked the door and remorsefully disentangled her legs from the brunette's before swinging them out onto the pavement.

"You are cruel," Patsy said in a low voice, rising up to tower over the blonde, partially due to her stilettos.

"And you're lipstick is terribly smudged," Trixie chastised, handing over a napkin, "I swear, I can't leave you two alone for fifteen minutes…"

Patsy wiped her mouth before turning around and helping Delia out of the car. After the brunette received the same rap on the knuckles from Trixie, the three entered the venue to a wild applause from the crowd of early-arrivers.

"So how was it?" Ellie asked, pausing in her examination to help move some boxes.

"It was fun," Patsy said, "We didn't leave until one in the morning, though your Aunts Trixie, Barbara, and Phyllis stayed there to drink."

"Why did you leave them there?" Ellie asked.

"We had a flight at nine the next morning, to France," Patsy responded, before releasing a triumphant shout.

*Flash Back*

Patsy smiled gently as she cradled Delia close during the rendition of "Moonlight Serenade", the Gershwin tune they chose to be their wedding song. It was truly timeless piece, and soon couples of all ages were joining them on the dancefloor. When the last chord was struck, the crowd clapped exuberantly. Patsy kissed Delia lightly on the forehead before she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"May I have this dance?" Mr. Busby asked, looking imploringly at his daughter, who he had already danced with earlier in the night.

"With Pats?" Delia asked with a slight smile.

"Of course! If you are willing to share."

"Well, Pats?" Delia asked with a smirk.

"It would be an honor," Patsy said, bewildered and touched.

Delia floated away and soon her father took her place, easily stepping in tune with the music.

"Delia is a lucky lady," he said with approval, "I am very proud of the both of you."

Patsy found herself blushing at the compliment.

"Thank you, Mr. Busby, that means a lot."

The older man gave a slight cough before continuing in a slower tone.

"I…I heard about your father…and how he doesn't take too kindly…to this…and I wanted to say I'm sorry, you deserve so much more than that."

Patsy found a frog in her throat and could only nod, tears gathering in her eyes.

"And I also wanted to say that if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me," he added on, not wanting to get terribly sentimental.

"Of course, Mr. Busby, that's very kind of you."

The song drew to a close, and they pulled apart, though Mr. Busby caught her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Welcome to the family, Patience."

"It looks like a wild party," Ellie commented idly, flipping through the album after they had loaded the crib into the car.

Patsy cocked an eyebrow at her daughter.

"How so?"

Ellie wordlessly held up a picture of a red-faced Patsy kneeling on the floor, a garter clenched in her teeth as Delia sat on a chair before her in an equally embarrassed state.

*Flash Back*

"Okay, okay!" Trixie shouted, "It's time for SOMEONE to remove the bride's garter!"

Patsy froze from the punch booth before marching over the blonde woman as shouts of approval rose from the crowd.

"What?!" Patsy hissed, "Trixie, I didn't agree to this!"

"Did you honestly think you were going to get away from doing this?" Trixie teased, "Come now, it's a tradition!"

"Trixie, I'm not doing this, it's indecent!"

"You aren't?! Dear me, that's too bad, it seems everyone else wants you to."

Indeed, the crowd had begun to gather around the blonde and ginger.

Delia was dragged towards them, looking as red as a tomato.

"I'm going to skin you alive, Beatrix Franklin," Patsy growled as the pixie-haired woman sat Delia on a chair.

Trixie shot her a radiant smile before leaning in and whispering, "This is where I tell you your WIFE was the one you suggested it."

Patsy turned slightly and gave Delia a stunned look, who gazed back at her sheepishly. The crowd had begun to shout encouragement at Patsy, some of the comments a little more risqué than what was probably appropriate.

Patsy drew her shoulders back and as a smile touched her lips.

She knew how to get her back.

Ooh, Delia was going to regret this.

The ginger knelt down without breaking eye-contact with her wife as the crowd cheered behind her. Delia's face was bright red as the ginger reached underneath her skirts and grasped her legs. Patsy allowed a suggestive smirk to touch her lips and Delia watched as the taller woman dove beneath the wedding dress.

Delia had to bite her lip and clutch the chair when she felt Patsy run her tongue the length of her leg before she felt teeth delicately nip at the garter and smoothly shimmy it back down.

When Patsy emerged she looked very disheveled, causing the room to bellow with laughter as she fell back into a sitting position, the garter still in her mouth.

"Sounds like a fun time," Ellie said as they drove back to their flat, "Where did you go for your honeymoon?"

"Southern France…we stayed on a beach resort for a week."

"Was it hot there?"

"Very" Patsy said with a smirk that Ellie seemed to not see.

*Flash Back*

Patsy unlocked the door to their hotel room, the first few pearl buttons of her silk dress shirt unbuttoned and her tie undone as she flicked on the light while also heatedly kissing her new wife.

The ginger carried a champagne bottle in one hand as the other reached up and smoothly unzipped the wedding dress down to Delia's waist.

"As much as I love seeing you in this dress, I think you would look much better with it off," Patsy said as they gravitated towards the bed.

"The same could go for you, cariad," Delia mumbled against Patsy's lips, "But I rather like this shirt…"

Delia tugged Patsy's jacket off and the ginger tossed it on the floor before the brunette untucked the other's shirt and unbuckled her slacks.

Clothes effectively loosened but still clinging to their bodies, the two collapsed on the king sized bed and Patsy had to break off the kiss to place the champagne on the nightstand. As she reached over, Delia began to undo Patsy's hair with a heavy sigh.

"We can't stay up, cariad," Delia said, "We have to be gone by six…it's already one."

"Hmm," Patsy said, leaning down for a kiss, "We can always book another flight."

Delia rolled her eyes but smiled at this.

Patsy reached up worked her hands into Delia's stiff tresses before pausing with a frown.

"How much hairspray did they use on you?" Patsy demanded.

"Half a bottle, it feels like," Delia said with a wince, "I think I will very much die if I don't get these bobby pins out of my hair."

"Dear me, then I guess I should help you," Patsy said with a chortle. The two sat up and Patsy began to pluck out the pins, working her fingers into Delia's hair and pulling gently. When a sizable pile developed on the bed covers, Patsy ran her fingers through the Welshwoman's dark tresses, loosening up the hairspray.

"Would you like to take a shower with me, Mrs. Busby-Mount?" Patsy asked, nuzzling the base of Delia's neck.

"Of course I would, Mrs. Busby-Mount," Delia responded with relish. They rose up, Delia letting her dress pool at around her ankles and Patsy unbuttoning her shirt and sliding down her slacks. Patsy switched the hot water on and they both squealed like school girls when at first cold water blasted them. When the water was a suitable temperature, Patsy worked shampoo into Delia's hair, breaking up the rest of the hairspray ardently. After the brunette rinsed they switched positions and the shorter woman eagerly washed Patsy's ginger tresses, the smell of sweat pea sweeping over them. When they were done they toed out of the shower, skin red and inflamed from the hot water as they toweled off in the mist of fogged up mirrors.

Patsy emerged from the bathroom and spotted the abandoned champagne bottle in dismay. She hurriedly tied a robe on and grabbed the empty ice bucket before peeking into the bathroom and telling Delia she was getting ice. Snatching up a room key, Patsy left the room with a spring in her step, humming softly to herself in the silent corridor. Filling up the bucket to the brim, she tip-toed back and opened her door.

The lights were still on, allowing her to see Delia shyly laying on the bed, dressed in only Patsy's dress shirt, which was much too big for her.

She looked drop-dead sexy.

"Didn't want to unpack my pajamas," she explained at Patsy's dropped jaw.

"Well, why would you when you look a picture in that?" Patsy jibed, putting the bucket on the nightstand and dunking the champagne inside of it.

Delia blushed and the ginger nimbly crawled over her before gently leaning down and pressing her lips on hers after discarding her robe and clad in her undergarments.

"Oh, my darling girl," Patsy sighed, moving her mouth down Delia's neck, "You are so hot."

"Pats, its two," Delia murmured sadly, rubbing her feet against Patsy's legs and biting her lip.

"Hmm," the ginger said thoughtfully, lips trailing back up her neck, "I guess this will have to be continued."

"Until then, those lips are limited to the face," Delia said sternly, though her arms pulled the ginger close as her legs wrapped around her waist. Patsy moaned into her mouth.

"Who knew my wife was such a tease?" Patsy whispered, eyes fluttering.

"You did," Delia said with a giggle, though she pulled Patsy's face down for a sweet, chaste kiss.

"And I love you," Delia added in a soft voice, her hands tangled in Patsy's damp hair.

"I love you too, Mrs. Busby-Mount," Patsy whispered back before leaning in for a passionate kiss.

Patsy stared up at the ceiling from where she lay on the floor after spending two hours trying to assemble the crib once more. She had the goofiest smile on her face as she remembered all of this, the wedding album laying discarded by the screwdriver.

Her phone began to buzz.

She glanced at the ID and answered it.

"Hello sweetie," she purred contentedly.

"Hi Pats, how's it going?" Delia's voice was tired on the other line but still thrummed merrily.

"You won't believe what Ellie found, darling…"


	29. Late Nights

Patsy woke groggily to the now familiar sound of a choking cry coming from the baby monitor on the nightstand. She opened her eyes blearily and stretched, her arms having been wrapped around Delia's waist while she slept. Fanw uncurled her long body from the foot of the bed and jumped off at the disturbance of Patsy's movement.

Delia also shifted, turning over onto her back and rubbing her eyes.

"What time is it?" the brunette yawned.

"Eleven," Patsy said with a glance at the clock, "Time for more medicine."

"I'll go fetch it, it's my turn anyway," Delia said when Patsy shifted into sitting position.

"I can hold him, sweetie," Patsy volunteered, "He almost climbed out of my hands last time."

"You're a dream," Delia said, pecking her on the lips before they both staggered out of bed.

Delia disappeared into the kitchen as Patsy hobbled into Trevon's room, Fanw wobbling after her in silence, tongue hanging out with excitement. The small boy was standing, his good hand clutching the railing while the other remained against his torso, plastered in a cast. His wails were tearless, and at the sight at Patsy, he broke it off to sorrowful sniffles.

"Dear me, young man, you've got quite the pair of lungs," Patsy said, reaching into the crib and gingerly picking him up. Trevon seemed to instinctively bury his head underneath Patsy's chin as his sniffling grew quieter.

Delia appeared in the doorway, carrying two vials of medicine.

"Is it his arm again?" Delia fretted, rubbing his back and peering into his face.

"I believe so," Patsy said, noting the marks on the cast where he had been chafing it on the crib posts, "It's probably itchy."

"Oh, cariad," Delia murmured sympathetically.

Patsy sat down in the rocking chair and turned Trevon around on her lap as Delia knelt before them. Trevon was still taking deep shuddering breaths, as if he were just realizing everything was going to be okay.

"I hate doing this," Delia mumbled, preparing the eyedroppers so they would be fast to administer, "I would never be able to work in pediatrics…I would always feel so guilty because they would cry whenever I tried giving them their medication."

Patsy agreed fervently before she accepted a cloth from Delia and placed it preparedly underneath Trevon's chubby chin.

At the sight of the eyedroppers, Trevon began to squirm, attempting to push it away from his face. Delia, ever the patient one, gently held his free hand down before squirting the first dose into his mouth, quickly followed by the second. Trevon began to cry again, his wail slightly gurgled as some of the medicine spilled out of his mouth.

"I know, I know," Patsy soothed, wiping his face clean as he swallowed the liquid and Delia paused to tighten the lids back on the vials.

Trevon continued to cry, placing his fingers fitfully in his mouth as tears streaked down his cheeks. Delia stood and placed the vials on a table before Patsy gently transferred the infant in her hands.

"It's alright, cariad," Delia cooed as Trevon's cries slowed to shuddering gasps, though his fingers remained in his mouth as he looked around the room.

Patsy smiled wistfully before she stood and grabbed the medicine, returning them to the fridge. When she came back, she saw Delia swaying slowly from side-to-side, Trevon having nodded off on her shoulder.

"Well that was fast," Patsy murmured, rubbing his back lovingly.

"He's seems just as tired as we are," Delia said with a yawn, gingerly walking him over to the crib and laying him down. Trevon stirred slightly, though his breathing was deep as his limp limbs stretched out.

"Pats," Delia whispered, "Why do you think he hasn't started talking yet?" The brunette sounded as if she were fretting.

"He will when he's ready, darling," Patsy soothed, pressing a kiss on her temple and wrapping an arm around her waist, "Now let's get you to bed, you have an early shift tomorrow." They left the room, Fanw now posting herself underneath the crib, where she would hopefully not be disturbed again by moving limbs.


	30. It's All Good

"Are you SURE that you're okay with this? I know my mam wouldn't mind-"

"Deels, we'll be absolutely fine," Patsy soothed, holding Trevon as she spoke through the car window in the chilly air, stomping her feet in the driveway, "There's no need to call your mother, it's only for the weekend."

Delia bit her lip.

"Alright," the brunette sighed, "Remember, there is extra food in the freezer and extra cash in my sock drawer."

"Yes, yes, I know, darling, now you two need to go!"

Patsy leaned in through the window and kissed Delia goodbye. She then held Trevon as Delia shook his hand while cooing "Goodbye, cariad!"

"Bye mum, bye Trevon!" Ellie shouted from the passenger seat, waving.

Patsy backed up and nuzzled Trevon.

"Can you say bye-bye, sweetie? Say 'bye-bye'!" Patsy waved and soon Trevon mirrored her action, drawing a merry giggle from the ginger. Delia and Ellie pulled out of the drive and were soon out of sight, off to a football tournament.

Patsy sighed, her breath misting as her heart panged despairingly. She was jerked from her reverie when Trevon released a squeal and twisted in her arms irritably.

"It's someone's nap time," Patsy said, kissing him on the forehead before turning and re-entering the flat. Fanw leapt up from her dog pad and bounded towards her as she went into the living room and placed Trevon in a sitting position before placing some toys before him.

"Mummy needs to go check the cookies and then you can get ready for your nap," Patsy said in a bright tone, looking for some sort of trace recognition or verbal response. Trevon seemed perfectly content ignoring Patsy and focusing on the jigsaw puzzle before him, which made the ginger frown slightly. While the infant had been healed of everything physical that had been flung at him, the broken arm, bruised ribs, and near fatal poisoning, he still did not participate in any communication like he was supposed to by his age. It was troubling, and Patsy remained kneeling before the dark-skinned boy, gazing at him worriedly.

Fanw waggled up to him and licked him enthusiastically, and for a moment Trevon began to giggle, shyly hiding his face from the eager corgi. Smiling, Patsy watched as the cuteness intensified with Trevon wrapping his short arms around Fanw's neck and hugging her, laying his head on her shoulder.

Despite how well they seemed to be getting along, Patsy still wasn't comfortable leaving the dog alone with Trevon. So she called Fanw and the dog bounded towards the kitchen after Trevon released her from his grasp.

She cracked the oven open and decided that the cookies were going strong, so she went back and scooped up Trevon, tickling his tummy as she walked him into his room for a nap.

Patsy walked briskly down the sidewalk while pushing a stroller, thanking God for the thousandth time for making Delia good with dogs as Fanw walked easily in step with her. The air was crisp enough to make Patsy bundle up Trevon and herself before going to the dog park, something Delia did with Fanw every Saturday; which naturally meant Patsy had too as well. Reaching the gated entrance, Patsy thanked a leaving dog-walker for holding the gate open as she pushed the stroller in. For the temperature there were quite a few people there, so Patsy had to walk quite a distance to find an open bench. Parking the stroller to face her, Patsy sat down and undid Fanw's leash.

"Okay, go on; go chase boys…or girls, I mean, however you self-identify," Patsy said, making a shooing motion with her hands. Fanw sat down and looked at her expectantly, tongue lolling out.

"Fanw!" Someone called excitedly, making Patsy look up in surprise. A cheerful-looking woman, walked with an arm linked with a lightly bearded man towards them, a terrier bounding before them. The Welsh corgi turned to look at them belatedly, but remained sitting before a bewildered Patsy.

"Well, if that's Fanw, then you must be Delia's wife, Patsy," the woman said, reaching the ginger's bench, extending a hand. Patsy took it and shook numbly.

"Sarah Heartman, I normally see Delia here, playing fetch with her," Sarah said, gesturing towards Fanw, "And this is my boyfriend, Jack."

Patsy settled for a friendly "Hi" with the man before Sarah noticed Trevon.

"Oh, Delia had said you took in a child! What's his name?" Sarah asked pleasantly.

"Trevon," Patsy said, glancing at the boy as he looked around, having no idea where he was.

"He's quite the young chap! Well, we've got to head, it's been a pleasure meeting you!"

Patsy smiled and waved as the couple took their dog and left. The ginger turned to Fanw with raised eyebrows before reaching into the basket of the stroller and removing a rubber ball that she thought was for decoration.

Fanw panted excitedly and waggled her rear end at the sight of it.

"Fetch?"

Patsy wiped the dog drool on her jeans after tossing the ball an impressive distance, allowing her to return her attention to holding Trevon against her body as he eagerly bubbled saliva and chewed on his fingers.

"Just eat your whole hand, why don't you?" Patsy chortled before gently prying the appendage from his mouth. Instead of fussing, Trevon released an excited squeal and clapped his hands, slinking down Patsy's lap, wanting down.

"C'mon, sweetie, it's time to go home and get out of this cold," Patsy sighed, pulling him back up and seating him back in the stroller. She was in the process of buckling him in and tucking a thick blanket over him when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

Patsy very slowly turned around to see a man, probably in his late twenties, early thirties holding the ball she had thrown, Fanw trotting up behind him, barking excitedly and jumping up to get the ball from him.

"Uh, can I help you?" Patsy demanded, after saying sharply, "Fanw!"

The corgi silenced and stopped jumping, but still stared up at the ball.

"Ah, well, it seems your corgi lost her ball and I wanted to give it to you," he said, looking shy. Patsy raised her eyebrows and looked down at the dog before deciding with utter certainty that it was impossible for the little ball of energy to 'lose a ball'.

"Uh-huh," Patsy said, extending her hand expectantly, "May I have it back?"

"Yes, well," the man continued, ignoring her outstretched hand, "I was also wondering if I could take you out for a drink."

"I would just like the ball back," Patsy said in a dangerous tone, acting as if she didn't hear his request. She glanced at her gloved hands and wondered that of all times she showed off her wedding ring, why did this have to happen when it was cold and she covered it up?

"That drink, miss," he persisted.

"I'm afraid I can't oblige you," Patsy said in a dark tone, "Now, please, the ball."

With a huff, the man pressed it into her hand, and Patsy cautiously returned it to the basket as Fanw obediently wobbled over and allowed Patsy to put her leash on, the ginger watching the man all the while.

"Are you sure?" he asked as Patsy turned to leave, "You look like you could do with a fun time."

"I'm sorry," Patsy paused to look back at him, "I don't like cock."

"What?!" Delia exclaimed over the phone later that night, as Patsy sat on her bed with Trevon and Fanw, watching 'Dumbo' on Netflix, "I can't believe that happened!"

"Yes, well, it did," Patsy sighed, Trevon reclining in the crook of her arm as they both leaned on pillows against the headboard, "it was unbearable."

"Are you okay?" Delia fretted, "He could have turned out to be violent!"

"I'm fine; I'm sure Fanw would have saved me," Patsy jibed light-heartedly, the corgi lifting her head and wagging her tail stub at the sound of her name, "How did Ellie do?"

"They played three games today, only lost one," Delia said prideful, "She scored four times!"

"Tell her I said congratulations," Patsy thrummed merrily. Patsy heard Delia call out and the muffled response.

"She says thank-you," Delia chortled, "What are you doing now?"

"Just laying down and watching 'Dumbo' before bed," Patsy said evenly, rubbing a thumb over Trevon's shoulder as he began to nod off.

"You know that-"

"Yes, Delia, like every time it is brought up, I know it is a racist movie," Patsy sighed theatrically, "You don't need to lecture me again on subliminal messaging."

"Did you cry during the part?" Delia whispered sorrowfully.

"I…yes," Patsy admitted, wiping a stray tear away, "Though it is a good thing Trey's asleep because the trippy part is coming up."

"…Trey?" Delia asked dubiously, "Since when did we give him a nickname?"

"Just now, I suppose," Patsy sighed, "Do you not like it? We can call him "T" if you really want to."

"Oh, no, Trey sounds fine, I just didn't take you as the one to start nicknames," Delia soothed. There was a pause on the phone, both parties knowing the conversation was coming to a close, though they didn't want to end it.

"I suppose you are going to have an early day tomorrow," Patsy murmured softly.

"Yes…we should be back in the afternoon," Delia said gently.

"I miss you," Patsy whimpered.

"I know, cariad…I love you Pats," Delia said back. There was a shout and Delia added, "Ellie says 'goodnight'."

"Tell her I said good night as well…I love you too."

After Patsy wistfully hung up, she gently scooped Trevon up and laid him in his crib. Leaving the door cracked, she hobbled back to her room and lay back down, flicking the TV off. Slipping underneath the covers, Patsy felt Fanw relinquish her spot at her feet, and Patsy's heart quietly pined as she missed the presence of her beloved wife.


	31. When Things Get Real

Delia sat across from Trevon, watching as the young boy assembled a jigsaw puzzle. The brunette had been watching this process for quite a while now, her head cocked to the side as she observed him silently.

Patsy had taken Ellie to the grocer, leaving Delia with Trevon and a book, though she had forgone her reading some time ago. Delia knelt down off of the couch, though the young boy did not move as a result. Curiously, the Welshwoman raised a hand and held it about twenty centimeters away from Trevon's head, patiently waiting for some kind of recognition, or acknowledgment, which of course, didn't come.

Delia placed her middle finger over her thumb and snapped her fingers.

Nothing.

Trevon gave no acknowledgment that he heard the sound, still placidly playing with the jigsaw puzzle as if nothing happened. Delia frowned before halving the distance with her hand and snapping her fingers once more.

After a delayed moment, a pent up breath, Trevon shook his head in shock and looked up at Delia in bewilderment.

Smiling gently, Delia tickled the young boy, making him squeal with laughter, though the smile didn't reach her eyes as worry panged in her heart.

*****^*****  
Delia sat at the office desk after putting Trevon in his crib for a nap, rubbing a thumb over an aged business card, deep in thought.

She should wait and discuss this with Patsy.

But she couldn't find it within herself to share her worries with the ginger; and it wasn't like they had to pay for anything. The brunette told herself this and made up her mind before leaning over the desk and dialing the number.

"I…no, sweetie, I just took him to get some fresh air… We might stop by Phyllis'…mmhmm…Okay, cariad… I love you too."

Delia hung up before letting out a sigh and leaning forward to dejectedly bang her head on the steering wheel. She let out a frustrated noise in the back of her throat as she clutched the treacherous cell phone that had enabled her to lie to her wife.

Well, there was no going back now.

Delia glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Trevon curiously gazing around in his car seat, fingers stuffed in his mouth.

"Okay, c'mon, let's go," Delia huffed.

"I'm sorry," Delia mumbled for the thousandth time, holding a squirming Trevon as he tried to break free of her grasp and get away from the doctor as he leaned over the two of them, holding an examination microscope.

"It's quite alright, Delia," Dr. Turner chortled, "I get crying children in here all the time."

The dark-haired doctor managed to place the tool inside Trevon's ear long enough to take a peek and frown slightly.

"What is it?" Delia fretted instantly.

"Nothing," Dr. Turner said, "There appears to be nothing wrong with his ears, but he's failed the hearing tests. It's probably some sort of nerve damage or genetic deafness."

"…oh," Delia whispered hoarsely, looking stricken.

"Don't worry! There is actually a course of treatment I want to prescribe him… He's about forty percent deaf in both ears

and I believe it is nerve damage, and therefore will not get worse with time. I want to give him hearing aid implants."

"Implants?" Delia asked dubiously, readjusting Trevon in her lap.

Dr. Turner nodded before continuing, "Yes, it's an outpatient procedure. I would place the implants just underneath the skin behind his ear, where it will pick up all the vibrations and relay them past the damaged nerves and to his brain."

"How long would the recovery time be?" Delia queried, thinking back to the pain meds they had to administer to the child.

"Oh, a few days to about a week," Dr. Turner said pleasantly, "All I would need to do is arrange for a size for the implant and a surgeon."

"I'll have…I need to discuss this with my wife," Delia said softly, "and I need to contact the agency."

"Of course, you just call our office to arrange for a date, okay?"

"I can't believe this, Delia," Patsy whispered in a hushed voice over the countertop later that night, after Ellie and Trevon were in bed, "Why on earth did you not tell me?!"

Delia stood on the opposite side of the island, looking both defensive and sorrowful.

"Because I knew how you would react, Pats! At the time I didn't know anything was wrong-"

"'Didn't know'?! Delia, are you a nurse or not?!" Patsy hissed angrily, hands clenched into fists.

"Patsy!" Delia shot back curtly, cutting the other off in a warning tone. For a moment they stopped and stared at each other, their adrenaline pumping as they attempted to calm their breathing.

"What did Dr. Turner say?" Patsy asked in a biting tone, though it was much calmer than her previous one.

"He said that Trevon is forty percent deaf in both ears," Delia murmured softly, eyeing the red head warily.

"What?" Patsy asked hoarsely, her face paling.

"But he wants to give him hearing aid implants…Pats, he's not an invalid," Delia plowed on.

"I know he's not an invalid, he's our-" but the ginger broke off, her face becoming expressionless. The thing was, she was about to say 'our son', but legally Trevon was not their son. He was a foster child.

"You still should have told me," Patsy muttered bitterly.

Delia crossed her arms and looked at the other pointedly.

"Patsy, if I told you when I found out, you would have been a mess. We needed to discuss this without worrying Ellie."

"You act as if she's still twelve, Deels, she's almost a legal adult!"

"No, I'm only being reasonable. This doesn't concern Ellie; it is about Trevon."

Patsy sighed heavily and leaned her elbows on the countertop in defeat as she buried her face in her hands.

"Pats, I'm sorry," Delia pined softly, not knowing how else to placate her.

"What do we do now?" Patsy muttered.

"Arrange for him to have the surgery after contacting the agency," Delia responded.

"Do…do we know if he will start talking?" Patsy questioned, peering back up at Delia.

"That's the hope," Delia sighed in a resigned voice. After a pause, she added, "C'mon, sweetie, let's get to bed."

Two Weeks Later…

"Okay, so that's it," Delia sighed, closing the manila envelope and looking at Patsy, "That's the legal verbatim at least."

The ginger pulled the shorter Welshwoman in a tight hug before pressing her lips on her forehead.

"I wish I could go with you," Patsy whispered hoarsely.

"I do too, but we've a fussy child on our hands," Delia murmured, kissing Patsy lightly on the lips.

The brunette pulled back and brushed her fingers over her outfit.

"How do I look?" Delia fretted.

Patsy bit her lip and raised her eyebrows, making Delia's expression become torn.

"Okay, don't answer that, I don't have time to change."

"No, darling, it's just…you look so sexy," Patsy purred, running a thumb over Delia's cheek.

"Now you choose to be flirty?" Delia mused with a smirk.

"I'm only being honest," Patsy sniffed, giving her signature smile.

"Hmm," Delia huffed, grabbing her purse and readying to leave.

"Good-luck, sweetie," Patsy cooed, wrapping a discarded scarf around Delia's neck and making it snug.

"I'll do my best," Delia whispered back, smiling warily at her wife, "I'll call you when I find out."


	32. Things are Going Great

While Delia was gone to finalize the adoption process for Trevon, Patsy picked up the irritated infant from his crib before he got upset enough to bother his stitches.

"C'mon, honey, let's make a puzzle," Patsy cooed gently, remembering how Dr. Turner had stressed they speak in lower tones to help ease him into hearing things correctly for the first time.

Trevon fell silent at her words and gazed at her in mild bewilderment, a hand stuffed in his mouth as usual. Patsy found herself smiling at this as she walked into the living room. Ellie was out walking the dog.

Patsy sat Trevon down on the floor, but he quickly staggered up and wobbled towards the recliner, where she had sat down to watch him.

"What are you doing, silly," Patsy said playfully, tickling him, "the puzzles are on the floor."

He teetered sideways, following the direction of her outstretched hand before hobbling over to the small pile of puzzles and picking up a discarded piece.

Turning around, holding out the piece, he walked back to Patsy and placed it in her lap.

"Why thank you, sweetie," Patsy chortled, pressing it back into his much smaller hand, "but you need this for your puzzle."

Trevon looked up at Patsy, clutching the puzzle piece, before opening his mouth and saying something as clear as day, that blocked out every other noise.

"…Cariad, is everything alright?" Delia demanded as she heard what sounded like her wife crying on the other line of the phone.

"D-Delia, he spoke!" Patsy gasped merrily, wiping away her tears and watching as Trevon sat on the living room carpet, banging a box on the floor.

"What?!" Delia shrieked.

"Yes!" Patsy squealed back, "He said his first word!"

"What did he say?" Delia whispered urgently.

In a tone that said, 'I-don't-mean-to-brag-but-I'm-going-to, Patsy responded proudly, "He said 'mummy'!"

"Aww, that's such great news!" Delia said excitedly, "Pats, we did it! Trevon is our son!"

"Oh my God," Patsy whispered, dissolving into more tears of happiness, incapable of words.


	33. Everything Will be Alright

Patsy snuggled closer to Delia subconsciously under a mountain of blankets, forming a cocoon of warmth around them. Daylight was scarce due to the overcast sky, but Patsy knew dawn was creeping up without having to look at the clock. Wanting every minute of sleep she could get, the ginger breathed deeply and nuzzled Delia's neck, who was stretched out contentedly, much like a cat.

All too soon however, they both heard it:

"SANTA CLAUSS!"

"No," Delia whimpered, "How can he possibly-"

"SANTA, SANTA, SANTA!"

"He's a four-year-old child, he lives for Christmas Day," Patsy mumbled into the hollow of Delia's throat.

"Well, if you hadn't been telling him about it for the past three weeks…" Delia garbled reproachfully.

"I love Christmas," Patsy said defensively.

"At six in the morning?" Delia queried, "After staying up until midnight putting those presents under the tree?"

"Oh, shush, you have all day to take a nap before we go to Trixie's," Patsy said with a stretch before planting a kiss on the tip of Delia's nose, making her scrunch up her face.

"MUMMY, SANTA CLAUSS!"

Patsy groaned, not wanting to leave the warmth of their bed, making Delia smirk.

There was a soft knock on the door and a very tired-looking Ellie cracked the door open.

"Don't worry, I'll get him," Ellie said, mockingly rolling her eyes as if making some great sacrifice. The young woman hobbled off, leaving the door cracked and drawing a giggle from her parents.

"I swear, she's more of an adult than we are," Delia chortled, wrapping her arms around Patsy.

"Hmm," Patsy thrummed, pressing her forehead on Delia's, "Merry Christmas, darling."

"Merry Christmas, cariad."


	34. Christmas Day

Delia stretched lazily on the couch with a yawn as she instinctively reached down and felt Patsy's face from where the ginger was laying on the floor beside her. Cracking an eyelid, Delia saw that the movie they had put on had ended and was looping on the menu in a low volume. Patsy had come back late from dropping Trevon and Ellie off at their great auntie Blod's and had laid down on the floor, appearing to not want to wake Delia on the couch.

Sitting up with a groan, Delia realized she was still in the nice clothes she had worn to Trixie's Christmas dinner. A slight snore rose from Patsy below her, and with a gentle nudge of her foot, the ginger gave a start.

"Huh?"

"Darling," Delia simply yawned.

"Babe," Patsy yawned back, stretched her arms above her head. For a moment, the pair looked at the living room in silence, the toys that had been opened that morning now lay around the room from where Trevon had been playing with them before they had to rush over to Trixie's.

Wordlessly, the two stood and began to gather up the toys and brought them to the young boy's room before placing them in his toybox. They stumbled into the kitchen and Delia put a kettle on for tea as Patsy flicked the TV off and returned to sit at the counter, head in her hands.

"We should have stolen some leftovers," Patsy muttered helplessly into her hands, "Or at least some of those damned rolls."

"Oh my God they were SO GOOD, Delia groaned, "I don't think there were any leftovers though!"

"We need to eat over there more often then," Patsy said with a mischievous wink.

"How did Trixie even meet him?!" Delia asked, looking a bit more awake.

"A cocktail party I guess," Patsy said, reaching for a box of biscuits and taking one, offering the box to Delia. The brunette shook her head.

"I'm still full, I ate way too much of that turkey," Delia chuckled, setting out some tea things, "I know Trixie is good with men, but a chef from the Ritz?! How?!"

"We will never know," Patsy said lowly with a chuckle, causing the other to laugh.

"He liked your Welsh cakes darling," Patsy added as Delia sat next to her, both waiting on the kettle.

The shorter woman's eyes widened.

"What?!"

"Mhmm, had two I believe… I know because I ate half of the plate and Barbara snuck the rest," Patsy said in a secretive whisper.

"Well then, now you know the Busby's cake recipe is the best!" Delia said with a sniff, though there was a soft side smile tugging at her lips.

Patsy smiled back sweetly before the kettle went off and Delia poured tea. As they drank their tea, Patsy thoughtfully placed her tea mug down and looked expectantly at Delia.

"Darling, let's go out."

Delia raised her eyebrows.

"Cariad, where are we going to go at nine o' clock at night on Christmas day?" the brunette demanded.

Patsy smiled before standing and extending her hand towards her wife.

"I know a place, babe."

"Here," Patsy said a half an hour later, kneeling before Delia as she tightened her skates, "Now we can go."

The two hobbled onto the deserted ice as quiet snow fell around them.

"Cariad, it's been awhile, I don't know about this," Delia said, her breath misting before her.

"I've got you darling, don't worry," Patsy murmured, grasping the brunette's hips from behind before edging them further onto the ice, Delia reaching for the side bar instinctively.

"It's okay love," Patsy chuckled, prying Delia's vice-like grip from the bar, the brunette grasping onto Patsy's hands on her hips as they wobbled further onto the ice, but remained remarkably upright.

"I can't believe you actually got me out here," Delia said in shock as her feet remained on the ice, her ankles trembling slightly as Patsy pushed off gently, nudging them along.

"It's relatively easy once you build up the strength for it," Patsy said simply, planting her other skate on the ice and pushing off with a smooth stroke, moving them a few feet forward.

"I swear to God if I fall on my ass again…" Delia grumbled reproachfully, making the other chuckle.

"I won't let that happen love, you know that," Patsy murmured, kissing the side of Delia's cheek as the surged forward with more strength, the air chilly on their cheeks and the fluffy snowflakes alighting on their hair in silence. The ginger wrapped her arms around the shorter Welshwoman and skated them in an arc around the empty rink, the brunette squealing with child-like delight all the while, making her giggle as well.

"Hold on tight," Patsy whispered before twirled them in a loose circle, making the brunette gasp and release an ecstatic laugh that echoed in the dimness of the night. They continued like that until their noses were frozen and they skated to the edge of the rink and sat down in the snow, watching it fall around them as they huddled close. After a while they rose up and went home, making hot chocolate, (with some schnapps in it, hey its Christmas), and warming up on the sofa before migrating to bed to share gentle yet passionate kisses in a loving embrace, and falling asleep still in their clothes, limbs entangled.


End file.
